The Broken Line
by DragonMaster000
Summary: Spyro and Cynder thought that it was over with Malefor's defeat. They thought wrong. As dragon-kind tries to rebuild following the war, a new threat emerges, one that is more connected to Spyro than anyone could ever imagine.
1. Prologue

**Alright, here it is. My first ever fanfiction submission! I have to say I'm very excited, and I hope that this story can live up to the standard set by some of the stories out there already. We'll see!**

**Anyway, without any further ado, my fanfiction debut!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of the Legend of Spyro series, nor any of the characters depicted therein. I do, however, own any and all OC's that appear in this story.**

Prologue:

Blackness. All around, infinite and all-consuming. Nothing was visible anywhere. His eyes were useless in the absolute darkness. He might as well have been blind.

He was falling. Tumbling, spinning endlessly. But whether it was fast or slow, or how far he had travelled already, he had no idea. He was helpless in the dark, nothing to help him gain his bearings, nothing to act as a reference.

His whole body ached horribly from the blast of convexity he had taken to his chest, seemingly only moments before. Fury welled up inside him. How had those two weak, pathetic _hatchlings_ been able to resist his power? And not just resist it, but overpower it? Their faces flashed in his mind, watching with stunned looks on their expressions as he was dragged down beneath the crystalline surface of the world's core by those five spectral dragons.

How long ago had that been? Seconds? Days? Time no longer seemed to have any meaning within the absolute darkness that imprisoned him. At least he could take some small comfort in the fact that his mission to destroy the world had succeeded before those two hated dragons had defeated him.

Just then, from somewhere below him—at least, he thought it was below him; in his present situation it was impossible to tell—he saw a flicker of light. A second later it came again, brighter this time. Then, without warning, the blackness around him was replaced by blinding light as an enormous portal-like opening appeared beneath him, swirls of white and various shades of purple surrounding an ominous black centre. He recognized it easily.

A portal into the realm of Convexity, where he had been imprisoned for so many years.

"NOOOO!" he shouted frantically as he plummeted straight for the portal, but the thunderous rumble coming from the portal drowned out his cry the instant it was past his jaws.

He struggled furiously to stop his tumbling and open his wings to escape, but in the end it was futile. The portal was pulling him in like he was the prey of some starving beast. No force in the world could resist it. Only seconds after the portal had appeared, he disappeared inside it.

The tremendous rumbling sound he had heard before was deafening here. It pounded mercilessly against his ears, causing his head to throb with agony, and all the while the swirling lights assaulted his vision and the tumbling threatened to make him completely ill. He no longer had the will to struggle. He simply curled up into a ball, closing his eyes and praying that it would all end.

His prayers were answered several long seconds later. He gave a startled cry as he felt a tremendous lurch forward. Then he felt himself land face first on something quite solid and growled in pain as his whole weight came crashing down on his neck. He collapsed in a heap on his side, panting heavily, his head spinning like he had never imagined it could. He had to consciously force himself to keep from vomiting. He didn't know where he was, but at that current moment he couldn't care less.

"Well, well," a deep, menacing voice rumbled slowly from somewhere behind him. "Look who's returned. The Dark Master himself."

Malefor immediately went rigid, holding his breath as a shiver ran through the length of his body. He would recognize that voice anywhere. It was more chilling than anything he had ever heard in his life, deeper and more distorted in sound than even his own voice, resembling more the sound boulders made when they ground against each other than the voice of any living creature.

The voice of death. At least that was what Malefor expected it meant now.

Slowly he opened his eyes to find that he was sprawled out on a rough stone floor. Damp stone walls surrounded him as well as a low, heavy rock ceiling. There were several small cave-like recesses in the wall, just big enough for a dragon to dwell in, but they were all empty now. Turning his head, Malefor then caught sight of the raised stone ring that dominated the centre of the floor, its centre swirling with the tempest-like convexity portal from which he had emerged. Even as he watched there was a bright flash of white and purple light as the portal collapsed in on itself and disappeared with a crash of thunder, leaving nothing but smooth stone within the ring. Now the only light within that enclosed space came from the veins of dark crystal that poked out from the walls and ceiling, casting the underground chamber in a dim, evil violet glow.

"Get up," the terrible voice snapped suddenly in disgust.

Malefor cringed at the sound, but nonetheless he obeyed. It took him several moments, but eventually he was on his feet and had gathered a semblance of stability. Slowly, hesitantly, he turned around until he was facing the source of the voice. At first he saw nothing, but then an enormous figure emerged from the shadows, moving with slow, purposeful strides. As he stepped into the light of the crystals Malefor recognized him as the one he had so desperately hoped it wouldn't be.

"Master," he choked, his voice almost failing him.

"Malefor," the huge purple dragon snarled in reply, his eyes flashing with fury.

Malefor cringed again and was unable to hold his master's gaze. The purple dragon before him was certainly a terrifying sight. He stood well over a head taller than Malefor, every inch of his body bulging with muscle. His dark purple scales looked more like plates of hardened armour than anything, but even so his body was covered in large scars attesting to many, _many_ years of fighting for survival. His chest, wings, horns and crest were a jet black in colour, while his talons and the vicious spikes on his shoulders, along his spine and on the tips of his wings were a steel-grey that glinted in the dim light. His eyes were the worst of all, blazing a deep bloody red except for the feral slits for pupils.

"Once again you have failed, Malefor," the dragon rumbled. "For all your _strength_, all your unmatched _power_, you have been struck down."

He said the words strength and power with such disgust that Malefor couldn't help but shy away from the other dragon, curling his body defensively as if expecting to receive a blow at any moment.

"But I didn't fail," he protested in a quavering voice. "The Destroyer was resurrected. The world is crumbling even as we speak."

"Is it?" was the doubtful reply. "Are you so certain?"

"Yes! I saw it!"

"Then your eyes deceived you."

Malefor was stunned silent. Could it be? No, he had seen it! The Destroyer had completed its journey. Before falling into the volcano, he had clearly seen the world being consumed by a wave of fire, the ground splitting and cracking as if being forced out from the inside. The world _had_ to have been destroyed!

"Have a look for yourself," his master instructed, gesturing with a wing toward the stone ring in the floor.

Malefor looked, and at the same time the stone surface within the ring shimmered and seemed to melt away, a glowing liquid-like surface replacing it that appeared almost exactly like an oversized vision pool. Then the glowing colours shifted, resolving into a recognizable image.

He gasped in disbelief when he saw the world, as if from far out in space through the ring in the floor, several large pieces of it floating freely above the remainder of the planet. But the pieces weren't drifting away and breaking apart. Instead they were slowly floating back down toward the planet, fusing together until they looked as if they had never been separated in the first place. A glowing orb of bright purple energy enveloped the entirety of the planet, pulling it back together from the inside.

"How?" Malefor demanded incredulously. "How is this possible? The world should be breaking apart even now!"

A feeling almost akin to despair surged through him as he watched the last pieces of land settle back in place and the purple orb dissipated, leaving the world whole and renewed. It was true. He had failed. He had been so close to succeeding. Just a few moments longer and his destiny would have been fulfilled. Instead, everything he had spent so long fighting for had just been dashed.

"Like I said," the larger dragon sneered, "just as before, you have failed. And as you know, failure is not something I take well."

"But it wasn't my fault!" Malefor exclaimed. "Everything was going exactly as I had planned it! It was that purple whelp! If he hadn't gone rogue and fought against me instead of following his destiny, the world would be in pieces right now!"

"He didn't go rogue."

Malefor faltered, and for a long moment all he could do was stare at his master with an expression of utter disbelief.

"What?" he managed at last. "What do you mean? He was fighting against me instead of fighting to bring about the world's destruction like he should have been!"

"No Malefor. He fulfilled the exact purpose I sent him for."

Again Malefor was stunned silent.

"But I don't understand," he stammered. "Why would you send him to fight me?"

"Because I knew you couldn't be trusted anymore, Malefor," the other dragon snapped furiously. "Even if I hadn't sent Spyro and you had succeeded in destroying the world, you would never have honoured your oaths to me."

"What...what are you talking about?"

"You know full well! Your mission in that world, your entire reason for _being_, was to end my imprisonment here in this wasteland!"

Malefor glanced around at the dank cavern in which they were standing, as well as toward the only opening that led to the surface, through which he knew there was nothing but burned stone plains surrounded by lakes of lava and populated by monstrous creatures of darkness; the Dark Realms.

"But instead, you planned on remaking the world for yourself," his master continued. "Even before your first failure when you were sealed away in the realm of Convexity, I could see your true intentions. Even if you had succeeded in remaking the world, you would never have released me."

"Th-that's not true," Malefor stammered, feeling his fear rising by the second as his master's voice darkened with anger and malice.

"Don't lie to me!" the larger dragon roared. "Your intentions have always been painfully easy to read. You would have left me to rot here while you ruled over your new world. Did you really think you could escape me, Malefor? Did you think you could just turn your back on me, and there would be no consequences?"

Malefor was unable to reply, his fear constricting his throat to the point that it was difficult to breathe.

"You have some nerve, thinking that you were strong enough to escape me. You should have realized, Malefor, that _nothing_ can ever stand against me, not even one of my own kind." He reached up and tore a broad chunk of crystal from the roof of the cavern, throwing it against the stone floor and smashing it beneath a forepaw, turning it to nothing more than dark purple dust. "Nothing! So you see, that's why Spyro fought against you. It wasn't because he turned away from me, like you did. It was to put you in your place. He was fulfilling my purpose for him all along."

He took a menacing step forward, then another, and Malefor began backing away fearfully. But then, to his dismay, he was brought to a sudden halt as his rump struck the rock wall. He could see his master closing in on him from his left. Growing desperate, he spun to his right to try and circle around the chamber and reach the exit of the cavern, but to his utter surprise he found his way blocked by another dragon, though this one was far smaller than he was. He looked to be little more than a hatchling. But then Malefor realized that he looked immensely familiar, with his bright purple scales and his golden wings, chest, and horns.

_Impossible!_ he thought in dismay. _How did he get here?_

But he soon realized his mistake. Though the young dragon standing before him looked a great deal like Spyro at first glance, upon closer inspection Malefor realized that there were subtle differences between the two. This dragon was of the same age and nearly identical build, but his wings, chest, horns and crest were of a slightly darker shade than Spyro's, more of a bronze than gold, and his horns angled back more sharply. His crest was also slightly more pronounced, forming a single fleshy piece instead of the series of smaller pieces Spyro bore, and his snout was a little thinner. There were also thin streaks of faint bronze colouring across his back and shoulders, not to mention the numerous scars, most prominent of which was a pair of silvery slash marks running from his left brow down to the centre of his muzzle, crossing his eyelid. It looked to Malefor as though the young dragon was lucky he hadn't lost an eye, but as such it was undamaged.

His eyes. They were the biggest difference, between him and Spyro, and they held Malefor's attention the longest. They had a deep reddish tinge to them that gave them a far darker appearance than Spyro's, a look that was only accented by the glint of dark pleasure in them as he gazed up at Malefor with a superior smirk on his face.

"I was able to tolerate one failure from you, Malefor," his master snarled as he closed in on his victim, "because even though you were unable to stand up against the Guardians in the past I was impressed by your manipulation of the apes and later Cynder to maintain your influence in the Dragon Realms. But I can never accept this kind of blatant betrayal."

"Master, please," Malefor begged. "Just give me one more chance."

The larger dragon's scowl deepened, his blazing red eyes flashing with rage.

"You had your chance, Malefor, and you squandered it by turning against me. Now it's time for a younger, more trustworthy generation to carry out my plans."

Malefor glanced toward the younger dragon again, and he could see his smirk growing wider. Then, suddenly, without any warning, Malefor felt a wave of agony surge through his body as his master drove the talons of his right forepaw deep into his chest. Malefor screamed as he felt every ounce of strength he had left rushing out of him, sucked away by his master, his very life force draining away with each second that passed. The excruciating pain was the last thing he was aware of before his body broke apart in a flash of convexity, crumbling away and leaving no sign at all that he had ever even existed in the first place.

**And there you have it! Hope it was interesting. If anyone has any comments or questions, feel free to throw in a review. More to come soon.**


	2. Chapter 1

**I said that more was coming soon, and so more there is. I actually wasn't going to upload this until Friday, but I've had this finished since before I even published the prologue and I thought, what the heck. So here it is.**

**Enjoy!  
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><p><em><span>Chapter 1:<span>_

When the thunderous sound of stones splitting and crashing against each other finally died away, Cynder was certain that she must be dead. What other explanation could there possibly be for the sudden quiet? But soon enough she realized that she was mistaken; the silence was complete and total, but she was still breathing and she could easily feel her heart hammering against her ribcage. She was alive.

Slowly, hesitantly, Cynder lowered the wing that she had been using for shelter from the blinding glow that had swept over the entire enormous cavern, radiating out of Spyro's body. Shortly after taking cover behind her wing was when the deafening sound of crashing rocks had multiplied in volume. She had assumed that it had meant the world's destruction had accelerated and that their end would be upon them in only a matter of moments, but to her surprise she found that the opposite was true.

While only a minute ago the world around her had been splitting apart, now it was entirely whole again. There was no sign of the massive cracks that had been forming in the rock above and around her, and the violent shaking had subsided.

_It's over_, she thought in disbelief.

All at once the fear she had been feeling was replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief. It was over. She was alive, after she had been so certain that she was going to die. Both her and Spyro...

The thought of her purple dragon companion caused her to falter, and a small prickle of fear returned. Where was he? Just a moment ago he had been right in front of her, pulling the world back together in the single greatest display of power she had ever witnessed, but when she looked to where he had been floating in the air she saw no sign of him.

"Spyro?" she called out hopefully, her voice echoing faintly within the massive stone chamber.

There was no answer.

Her fear continued to rise as she searched about and still she didn't see him. Where could he have gone?

Just then she thought she saw something ahead of her, just beyond a lip in the uneven crystalline surface that made up the core of the world. Feeling her heart beginning to pound with anxiety, she slowly advanced until she had an unobstructed view. As soon as she saw what it was her chest constricted with fear.

"Spyro!" she exclaimed, and she rushed forward until she was by his side.

He wasn't moving. She hadn't seen him earlier because his purple scales had blended almost perfectly with the crystal beneath him, but now that he was up close she could see that the normally vibrant shade of his scales was now greatly faded, giving him a sickly appearance. His eyes were closed, his expression blank. He didn't stir in the slightest at her call.

"Spyro, wake up!" she cried, the first hints of desperation creeping into her tone.

Still he didn't answer. Feeling truly afraid now, Cynder took another step forward and rested a paw on Spyro's flank. He was cold to the touch.

"Oh no."

With a trembling paw she rolled Spyro onto his side, then quickly moved around him until she was standing by his exposed underbelly. Holding her breath anxiously, she leaned down and rested the side of her head against his chest.

Only a moment later she let out a massive sigh of relief.

He was breathing.

_Thank the Ancestors,_ she thought happily._ He's alive!_

But despite her relief, she was still deeply concerned. While Spyro may be alive it was still plain to see that he was not in good shape. She had no idea what he had done to stop the world from being destroyed, but it had obviously taken a lot out of him—not surprisingly, she thought. Would he recover? Did he even have the energy left to regain his strength, or would he simply fade away slowly with no way of saving him?

_No_, she thought with a hard edge of determination, shaking her head firmly. _I'm not going to give up on him._

She continued trying to wake him up for several minutes, but it soon became all too clear that he wasn't going to regain consciousness any time soon. Besides, she realized, even if she did manage to wake him, what good would that do? There was nothing in this place to sustain him, no means of nursing him back to health.

She had to get him out of there.

Cynder gave a heavy sigh, knowing that this would present a problem. She looked up and soon caught sight of the opening that she, Spyro and Malefor had fallen through shortly before. As she had feared, it looked as if it had been sealed off by Spyro's power; only a short ways up the shaft in the earth a mass of stone had formed, completely blocking the opening. And besides, even if it hadn't been blocked Cynder knew she never would have been able to get Spyro out that way. She remembered how long the fall had been, with nothing but sheer rock walls on all sides the entire way down. The only way out would have been to fly straight up all the way back out the crater of the volcano. With both her own weight and Spyro's to carry, Cynder knew she would never make it.

She needed an alternative, some way out where she could remain on the ground and conserve her energy as much as possible. She looked around quickly, but from her current position she could see no such escape.

Though she was loath to do it, she knew there was no choice. She got back to her feet and spread her wings, leaving Spyro lying alone on the cold crystal to search the cavern for a route of escape.

Starting at the closed-off shaft of the volcano, Cynder began a spiralling search pattern along the roof of the cavern, checking every nook and crevice hopefully for a shaft or tunnel, or some kind of hole to squeeze through. After several minutes she had found nothing, but she wasn't about to give up.

_After all, Spyro never gave up on me. And I'm not going to repay him by failing him now._

An hour slowly passed, and Cynder could feel her strength waning at an ever increasing rate. She realized with a mild feeling of surprise that she hadn't rested since after their successful defence of Warfang when they had defeated the golem. That had been almost two days ago, and the almost constant battling since then had drained her to the limits of her strength. The fight against Malefor had been especially gruelling, and now that she thought back on it Cynder was amazed that she had managed to keep pressing on with the sheer amount of resistance standing against her and Spyro.

When at last she couldn't continue any longer Cynder locked her wings and glided reluctantly back down to the crystal below, landing at Spyro's side and flopping down on the ground with a tired groan. She glanced up toward the stone ceiling of the cavern and tried to judge how much of it she had finished searching, concluding after a moment that she had covered half of the currently visible area. It was an impressive amount, but it was only a fraction of what she had to complete. She gave a discouraged groan.

"Spyro, I wish you were awake right now," she mumbled as she curled up by his side to try and get some rest before resuming her search. "I could really use your help."

***.*.***

As the massive stone door ground slowly back from the opening in the rock wall, a single golden dragonfly hovered anxiously several metres away from it, scarcely daring to peek out from between his fingers over his eyes at what he feared to be outside.

"Oh man oh man oh man," Sparx whimpered to himself, his whole body trembling. "Please let it be good. Please let it be good."

Finally, after several more torturous moments, the rumble subsided as the door settled into its fully open position. The glare from outside was nearly blinding when compared to the dim light that was all that was available within the massive cavern. Sparx could see nothing of what was outside, and with an anxious groan he began inching his way through the air toward the opening for a better look.

"Why did I have to be the one to come look?" he moaned to the empty air around him. "Was it because they wanted to get rid of me? Volteer was talking more than I was!"

More than an hour had passed since the violent trembling within the underground ruins of Warfang had subsided. The entire population of the dragon city was now huddled within the various levels of the ruins, fearfully awaiting their end as the world around them seemed to rip itself apart. But, to the surprise of many, without any kind of explanation the shaking had suddenly just stopped. The Guardians had advised that they wait before sending anyone to investigate the situation outside their shelter until it was certain that whatever cataclysm had befallen their world had passed. Finally, the order had been given for a scout to go check on the state of the world beyond their sanctuary.

And Sparx had been selected to be that scout.

"What a stupid idea," he grumbled as he neared the threshold of the massive doorway. "Who sends a dragonfly for something like this? You'd think they'd send someone a little harder to squash, at least, so that there would at least be a _chance_ they'd be able to tell them if something went wrong!"

He paused fearfully just short of the opening. He still couldn't see what lay beyond it, and in all truth he didn't want to see. What kind of horrible scene of destruction would be awaiting him?

"I wish Spyro was here..." he mumbled feebly as he slowly hovered toward the doorway.

It seemed to take an eternity, but eventually Sparx had passed the threshold and had emerged into the outside air. He had his eyes tightly shut, his whole body rigid as he waited for flames to consume him, or for the steely weapon of some creature of darkness to rend his body in two, but when neither of these things occurred he dared to crack one eye open.

As soon as he laid eyes on the sight before him, his jaw fell open and his entire body went numb.

Laid out before him wasn't some charred wasteland or cracked, splintered scene of destruction and horror. There were no flames, and no Destroyers or other creatures of evil. There was only a lush green forest, a calm stream meandering through the base of the broad canyon below him, a clear sky, and the most glorious sunrise he had ever laid eyes on.

For several long minutes he couldn't believe it. The last time he had been outside it was in the midst of a panicked frenzy, smack in the middle of a ruined city as throngs of terror-stricken moles, as well as a few dragons, made a dash for the underground ruins as a wave of fire spread from the volcano on the horizon, ready to consume everything in its path. But now it looked as if none of that had ever even occurred. There weren't even any signs of the struggle against the Destroyer that had occurred there less than a day before. Everything looked...perfect.

Slowly, realization dawned on the dragonfly, and as it did he couldn't stop the enormous grin from forming on his face.

_They did it_, he thought in disbelief. Then, out loud, he exclaimed, "They _did_ it! WOOOOO!"

Back within the ruins, Sparx's cheer echoed through the cavern and eventually reached the ears of the small band of dragons, moles and cheetahs that sat anxiously awaiting Sparx's return. When the high-pitched cry reached them they all gave muffled gasps of surprise and apprehension. Several moles and cheetahs immediately grabbed their weapons from their belts or from the ground beside them.

"What was that?" one of the moles, Mason, exclaimed.

"It sounds as if young Sparx has encountered some unknown, unexpected, unfathomable horror," a large electricity dragon, none other than the guardian Volteer, replied in a panicky voice. "Oh dear..."

"Come now, Volteer," the ice guardian Cyril huffed without any hint of concern in his voice. "If any harm had befallen Sparx, I'm sure the scream would have been much louder."

"I can go investigate," Hunter offered. The golden-furred cheetah quickly rose to his feet, gripping his bow in his paws.

"I don't think that will be necessary," the third and final dragon in the group, Terrador, rumbled, a small smile forming on his muzzle. "Here comes our scout now."

They all turned in time to see a small pinprick of golden light racing toward them. A high-pitched, unending squeal of unmistakable delight was emitting from it. Then, only a second later, Sparx zipped up to the group. All the group members present were slightly taken aback as he began darting erratically around their heads with excitement he couldn't contain.

"They did it they did it they did it they did it!" he was cheering. "They did it! It's over! We're saved! We're SAVED!"

"Now just hold on for a second, Sparx," Terrador instructed him, somehow managing to catch the tiny dragonfly in one of his massive paws and thereby stopping his dizzying circles. "What did you see?"

"It's all fixed!" Sparx exclaimed, feeling as if he would explode from pure joy and relief. "It's all back to normal! We're not going to die!"

"Are you certain?" a gruff voice interjected, and Sparx turned around to see Chief Prowlus take a step closer, his arms crossed over his chest and his face set in a doubtful scowl.

"You bet I am!" Sparx replied. "Go have a look for yourself! Come on!"

And without even waiting for a reply he was off, racing back in the direction of the doorway he had just returned from. The three guardians and their mole and cheetah companions exchanged surprised glances before hurrying off after him.

"Look!" Sparx insisted when they at last caught up with him, jabbing a finger out at their surroundings. "See? I told you!"

No one answered. They were all in shock at the sight of the land before them. Beyond a doubt the dragonfly had been correct, but still they all found it impossible to believe.

"How?" Volteer stammered a moment later, surprisingly able to utter only a single syllable.

"It would appear as though our young friends have prevailed," Cyril said, a smile beginning to form on his muzzle.

"And against such odds," Terrador nodded in agreement. "It's truly remarkable."

"Ah, I knew they could do it," Sparx said nonchalantly, waving a hand. "Never doubted them for a second."

"Indeed," Hunter commented with a twinkle of amusement in his eye. "And all that shouting earlier of 'Oh no, they didn't make it, we're all going to die!' was someone else, was it?"

Sparx shot the cheetah a scowl, but the guardians laughed.

"So how do we proceed from here?" Cyril asked Terrador. "Do we wait for the return of Spyro, Cynder and Ignitus?"

Terrador paused in thought for a moment before shaking his head. "No."

"What?" Sparx exclaimed, rounding on him.

"We have thousands of moles and several dragons waiting in the ruins for news. We should inform them that the danger is passed, and then we should return to the city and see what reconstruction needs to be completed there. I have no doubt that Spyro, Cynder and Ignitus can find their own way back to Warfang."

"Very good," Cyril said with a sharp nod. "We'll get on that, then."

"Oh, this is all so exciting, astounding..." Volteer chattered to himself as he turned to follow Cyril back inside the cavern, the ensuing train of synonyms being tuned out by most of the others present.

Terrador was just about to turn to follow the rest when he noticed Sparx still hovering in the same place as before, his gaze turned northward to where the Belt of Fire had been burning not long before. Though Sparx knew that Terrador was right and that Spyro would be able to make his own way back to Warfang, the idea of leaving without him still discomforted him.

"Sparx?" Terrador said, his normally gruff voice taking on a gentler tone. "Are you coming?"

"Huh?" Sparx grunted, snapping out of his troubled thoughts. "Oh, yeah, right behind you."

Terrador nodded and turned back into the cavern. Sparx hesitated a moment longer and shot one last glance over his shoulder before reluctantly following the enormous dragon inside.

Within the ruins news was obviously spreading quickly. Cheers and whoops of delight and relief could be heard echoing all around the caverns, and moles everywhere were dancing about or hugging each other while cheetah warriors and dragons clapped each other on the shoulders. It was a scene of such joy that Sparx found it was nearly impossible to continued feeling worried about Spyro. He could just imagine the celebrations that would be going on that evening!

"Now, now, everyone! Please, quiet down for a moment!" Terrador called sharply, though he also bore a smile at the sight of the citizens' excitement and happiness. "I think it's about time we return to our homes. If you will all follow us, Warfang awaits!"

"Or whatever's left of it," Cyril added under his breath, but his words were drowned out by the enormous cheer that erupted from the moles, dragons, and even the cheetahs.

With help from the dragons and cheetahs, Terrador and the other guardians were able to keep the flow of moles under control as they all flooded toward the main gates leading out of the underground ruins. Sparx was one of the first to exit the cavern, following right behind the guardians, hovering by Hunter's shoulder. The moles followed in a surprisingly orderly group behind them, forming a line five or six across with the occasional dragon or cheetah escorting them from the side. While Terrador had said that the danger had passed Sparx did notice that the dragons and cheetahs still seemed alert for the slightest sign of trouble, and he had to admit that he was also a little anxious about returning to the city that had been the site of a pitched battle the last time he had been there.

But it was soon obvious that their fears were for nothing. As they crested a rise in the trail leading from the ruins to the city's south-eastern gate they could all clearly see Warfang standing proudly ahead. They all paused for a moment in shock at the sight of it, its high stone walls and buildings gleaming in the bright morning sunlight.

"I don't believe it," Cyril muttered. "It looks as if there was never a battle at all!"

"But how?" Sparx asked. "The place was a mess before!"

"Spyro," Terrador chuckled. "I don't know how, but it looks as though he did a lot more than just prevent the world's destruction. Our home has been renewed."

"That young dragon is full of surprises, isn't he?" Volteer commented.

Everyone nodded their heads in agreement.

Without any further delay the group pressed onward. In only a few minutes they had reached the base of the wall, and at Terrador's instruction two dragons carried a pair of moles over the wall so that they could open the gate from inside. Soon the gates stood wide open and welcoming, and after that there was no stopping the surge of moles that raced ahead of the guardians, eager to check on the status of their homes and amazed by the city's completely undamaged state.

After managing to wade out of the flow of moles, Terrador turned to the two dragons that he had sent over the wall.

"Gather some volunteers and fly ahead into the city," he instructed. "I want to be sure that Warfang is secure."

"Yes, Master Terrador," the two dragons responded in unison with a sharp, military-like tone. Then they both spread their wings and took to the air, heading back over the crowd to gather some of their dragon companions before spreading out to scout ahead into the city.

"And what plans do you have from here, Prowlus?" Terrador asked, turning to face the darker orange-furred cheetah who stood nearby with his arms crossed over his chest as usual. "Are you and your warriors heading off for Avalar?"

"I think we'll remain behind for the time being," Prowlus responded gruffly. "We may as well offer whatever help we can in getting these moles settled back in."

"Your help is appreciated, then," Terrador thanked him, inclining his head respectfully. "Don't hesitate to let us know if you need anything in the way of supplies or accommodations while you remain."

Prowlus merely grunted before setting off to gather his warriors. After bidding a temporary farewell to the guardians, Hunter followed him.

"And us, Terrador?" Volteer said inquisitively.

"I think we should make our way to the northern wall," the earth guardian replied. "I'm curious to see what state it's in."

The other two guardians agreed, and with nowhere else to be at that time Sparx decided to follow them. The pace they chose as they flew over the city wasn't a hurried one, and Sparx was able to keep up with them without any trouble, though he didn't stick too close to them either. His attention was more focussed on the city spread out below him. It nearly took his breath away to see that, as they had concluded before, there was absolutely no sign of any of the damage and devastation that had been present only hours before. Buildings that he had known for a fact to be almost completely collapsed before were standing tall as if nothing had ever happened. The broad tower where Spyro and Cynder had battled the golem was whole once more, devoid of the large holes in the walls and crumbled hallways and balconies that had been so prevalent before.

"Sheesh, Spyro," he whistled to himself. "You just can't help it, can you? Always gotta fix _everything_."

He was brought out of his thoughts when he caught sight of the guardians slowing ahead and beginning their descent toward the ramparts. Sparx picked up the pace and caught up to them just as they settled on top of the stone battlements, looking around at their surroundings with great interest.

"No damage, just like everywhere else," Cyril commented. "It's astounding. I recall many areas where the wall was nearly crumbling, but not anymore."

"Everything is precisely how it was before the battle," Volteer nodded. "How positively delightful!"

"Not quite," Terrador called out suddenly, catching the attention of the other three.

Sparx and the other two guardians turned around to see that Terrador had moved up to the leading edge of the wall, peering over the edge at the ground below. They all moved forward to see what had caught his attention.

"Isn't that one of the catapults that was knocked off the wall during the battle?" Cyril asked.

Terrador nodded his large green head. "Indeed it is."

"But what's it doing down there?" Sparx asked, scratching his head in confusion.

The large metallic weapon was lying on its side far below them, apparently having been torn from its mount on the wall during the battle by an impact by one of the enemy's siege engines. It now lay with a number of dents along its length, as well as the char marks of flames and the scratches of grublin blades.

"Intriguing," Cyril said, glancing along the length of the wall and catching sight of a number of other damaged catapults. "The city itself is fully restored, but any weapons of war that were damaged during the battle have remained that way."

"Why would Spyro do that?" Sparx asked.

"I imagine he had grown tired of all the fighting," Terrador replied thoughtfully. "Perhaps he had no desire to restore anyone's capacity to make war."

"A very noble sentiment," Volteer nodded approvingly. "He certainly is a wise dragon for one so young."

The other two dragons and Sparx all nodded in agreement, gazing out for several minutes longer at the plains stretching out beyond Warfang's walls, which before had been filled to overflowing with the signs of death and destruction, but now looked nothing short of serene and peaceful.

"Well, I suppose we shouldn't waste any more time," Terrador spoke up a moment later. "The city may be repaired, but we still have a lot of work to do to get the citizens settled back in."

"Yes, of course," Cyril agreed.

"Will you be accompanying us, Sparx?" Terrador asked the dragonfly, surprising him. "Or do you have your own plans?"

Sparx hesitated for a moment, then shrugged his small shoulders.

"I think I'm going to wait here a little while longer," he said at length, glancing toward the now dormant volcano on the horizon.

The guardians understood what he meant immediately, and none of them argued. With a small nod Terrador said simply, "Very well."

"Don't stay out here on your own too long, though," Volteer added. "I'm certain that there will be some marvellous celebrations and festivities today!"

"Indeed," Cyril agreed, actually sounding somewhat excited. "And after three years of war against the Dark Master, I must say it will be a welcome change."

"Oh, yes, absolutely," Volteer said happily. "Undoubtedly. Assuredly."

"Volteer..."

Sparx watched as the three dragons departed, deciding to stick to the streets this time instead of flying so that they might better survey the state of the city from up close. He tried to feel happy about their words. After all that he had endured these past few months—no, he reminded himself, three years—a little bit of partying would sure hit the spot. But there was a nagging feeling of loneliness within his heart that had been present ever since Spyro and Cynder had left with Ignitus for the Belt of Fire.

"You'd better hurry back, Spyro," he muttered to the empty air. "Because the party sure won't feel right without you."

***.*.***

Cynder gave a frustrated cry as she touched down roughly on the crystal after her third failed search for a means of escape from their underground prison. She'd managed to cover about half of the roof of the cavern by this point, but still she had found no way out. She had no idea how long she and Spyro had been trapped down there. An hour? A day? All she knew was that she was running out of time. Hunger was clawing painfully at her stomach, and her throat was dry from thirst and the near constant exertion she had subjected herself to. On top of that, she knew that Spyro was faring even worse. The last time she had checked his breathing had been even harder to make out, and his scales had grown paler. He was fading, and fast.

_Did we really go through all this just to die trapped in the centre of the world?_ she demanded inwardly. _What was even the point!_

She gave a dejected sigh and plodded back to where Spyro lay, eventually sitting down a few feet from his side. Even though he hadn't yet awakened, she somehow felt just a little better whenever she stayed close to him. It was as if knowing she wasn't alone was some small comfort in this increasingly bleak situation.

For several long minutes she just sat there, trying to formulate some kind of new plan. While she had right away ruled out the volcano as a means of escape she had nonetheless tested the strength of the stone blockage to see if there might be a way of getting through it, but it had been futile. The stone was too strong. Perhaps if Spyro was awake he could have used his earth power to get through it, but then again if Spyro was awake she wouldn't be in this situation at all. The two of them would just be able to fly straight out the volcano. With him unconscious, even if she could get the shaft open there was no way she was flying out, and as of yet she hadn't found an alternative.

Her tail blade began clicking against the hard crystal in agitation, producing an almost musical sound, but she didn't notice in her current frame of mind. Her frustration was rapidly reaching a boiling point. She had fought so hard to redeem herself since awakening in the ruins of the Well of Souls. She had given everything she had in her to free herself from her past, but now that she had succeeded and she could be free at last, here she was in an entirely different kind of prison. It was cruel!

With a furious cry, Cynder reared her head back and released a blazing beam of dark violet convexity at a random point on the ceiling of the cavern, her anger and frustration growing too powerful for her to contain any longer. The beam struck with devastating force, sending up a large cloud of dust and chips of stone debris flying in all directions.

_Why can't I just catch some kind of break _once_ in my life?_ she wondered furiously. _Why!_

She was so angry that at first she didn't notice the new sound that had risen from out of the stillness, but eventually she became aware of a quiet rumbling from somewhere overhead. She immediately became suspicious—ever since after the battle with Malefor, the cavern had been devoid of all sound except any noise she made. What could be causing this now, then?

She looked up curiously and let out a surprised gasp when she caught sight of the small set of cracks forming where her convexity beam had struck. They were slowly spreading, small pieces of rock shifting and settling as their support gave way.

Cynder immediately fired another convexity blast at the cracks, and she was rewarded when a section of crumbled stone about four feet across broke loose and fell to the crystal below, revealing a new opening.

In a flash Cynder was airborne, beating her leathery wings as fast as she possibly could as she shot through the air, nothing more than a blur of jet black scales against a background of dark stone. Within seconds she had reached the opening and was hovering just beneath it, peering inside curiously.

It looked like a tunnel. A narrow passage in the rocks climbed away at a steep angle from the cavern, the uneven stone walls twisting and curving until disappearing from sight a few metres beyond the opening. Scarcely daring to hope, Cynder shifted closer.

As soon as she stuck her head through the opening she felt the soft touch of a breeze against her facial scales, cool and gentle. She could hardly believe it, but she knew that where there was airflow there was a path to the surface.

She nearly shouted out loud with happiness. She had never felt such a massive rush of relief in her life. They had a way out!

Without wasting another second Cynder tucked her bright magenta wings tight against her sides and dove straight down toward the crystal. A mere moment before she impacted she snapped her wings out and banked gradually upward, coming to a halt directly above Spyro before drifting down to the ground.

"Alright Spyro, let's get out of here," she muttered.

She didn't bother trying to wake him. In his present condition, even if she did manage to rouse him she doubted he would even be able to stand, let alone fly. So instead she shifted around until she was crouched down near to his chest. Then she pushed a forepaw under his shoulder and used it to pry his upper body a few inches off the ground. Moving quickly, she managed to insert her head under the base of his neck, and after a great deal of wriggling and struggling she eventually managed to get her shoulders under his.

"Okay," she grunted. "Here goes."

Timing her move carefully, she tensed her body in preparation before heaving her shoulders upward. Spyro's body lifted off the ground for a brief moment, and Cynder barely managed to get herself underneath him before he fell back to the ground. Wriggling her shoulders and hips she eventually managed to balance Spyro on the centre of her back. Then she raised a forepaw to begin turning around toward the opening, but she had been unprepared for the additional weight and stumbled. She grunted.

"You know Spyro, as much as I hate to admit it, I think Sparx was right. You are _heavy_."

With some effort, Cynder was able to turn herself fully around until she was facing in the direction of the opening. Then, gathering up all her strength, she leapt into the air.

The strain was tremendous. With both her own weight and Spyro's to support she had to churn her wings furiously to stay aloft and all she was able to accomplish was an unsteady hover in one place. No matter how hard she pounder her wings she was unable to gain any altitude.

"Come on," she snarled through gritted fangs, glancing up toward the tunnel opening above her. "I refuse to be stuck here forever! Come _on_!"

Thinking quickly, she tapped into her wind element and called up a strong gust around herself, directing it up toward the tunnel opening. Progress was slow at first, but as the wind howled around her she soon began picking up speed. It was an enormous struggle to maintain a steady flight path, and with each beat of her wings she took it felt like her wings were going to tear themselves from their sockets, but mercifully only a few seconds later the opening to the tunnel was within reach. Focussing hard on the ledge in front of her, Cynder was eventually able to use a combination of her wings and her wind to manoeuvre herself onto the stone lip. As soon as her paws hit the ground she collapsed onto the rough stone with a weary gasp.

"I am _so_ glad I didn't try that volcano," she panted breathlessly.

She was so tired that it was all she could do to fight against Spyro's weight to take a breath of air; she didn't even have the energy to roll him off of her back. If she had been at full strength before trying to lift him she knew she would have had no problem flying him up to the tunnel, but in her present state she was amazed in retrospect that she had actually accomplished what she had.

Her thoughts were interrupted, though, when she felt a tremor in the stone beneath her. The sound of rock splitting caused her to freeze in fear, and she looked back over her shoulder to see a series of cracks forming at the lip of the tunnel. Panic exploded through her when she saw them growing rapidly around her.

She was on her feet in a flash, adrenaline flooding through her body and driving away all her previous weariness, but she was just a split second too slow. At the exact moment that she made to leap farther into the tunnel the rock beneath her hind legs gave way and she gave a startled scream as she felt her body lurch downward. Just in time she managed to get a grip with her forepaws on more solid rock ahead, but the danger hadn't passed yet.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed as she felt Spyro beginning to slip of her back. "Spyro!"

Just at that moment the rock collapsed completely, and Cynder felt her stomach lurch into her chest as her body pitched downward, nothing but her front talons locked in the stone preventing her from falling. But Spyro, still unconscious, was helpless. Cynder looked over her shoulder just in time to see him falling through the opening and into empty space.

"No!" she cried desperately.

She didn't know how she did it, but somehow she managed to get the tip of her tail wrapped around one of Spyro's forepaws before he fell beyond her reach. Her talons were nearly wrenched from their purchase in the rocks when her tail brought his fall to an abrupt halt, and a jolt of pain shot through her as her spine absorbed the brunt of the shock. Cynder groaned through grit fangs as she clenched her talons tight, praying fervently that no more of the ledge caved in. She chanced a look back over her shoulder and immediately wished she hadn't when she saw Spyro dangling limply in space with nothing but the crystal far below.

"Perfect," she snarled to herself. "How'd I get myself into this?"

But she knew there was no time for complaining. She could feel her forelegs beginning to weaken. Mustering all the strength she could manage, Cynder pulled up with all her might. Slowly, ignoring the way her muscles burned in protest, she was able to get her chest up to the lip of the rock. She pushed up harder, eventually bringing her entire upper body into the tunnel. Once she was able to find a grip with her rear talons things got considerably easier, and she was able to pull herself the rest of the way into the tunnel without too much difficulty.

"Alright, don't slip on me now," she muttered as she turned back toward the ledge.

With both her hind legs and one foreleg gripping the stone beneath her, Cynder stretched out with her other foreleg until she managed to grab hold of Spyro's paw just above where she had gripped him with her tail. She pulled with all she was worth, and inch by inch she lifted the purple dragon's limp body over the ledge. She was hardly graceful about it; the best she could manage was to drag his flank across the rough lip at the opening to the tunnel, and she winced with sympathy when she saw the edge scraping against his scales and leaving deep scratches all the way along his body. Still, better that than a long fall to the unforgiving crystal below, she thought grimly, and she felt certain enough that given the circumstances he would forgive her. With one final heave she collapsed backward into the tunnel, pulling Spyro over the ledge and to safety.

"Not a great start," she gasped, feeling utterly drained.

Still, she couldn't help but feel relieved. She had completed the most difficult step of her rescue. All that was left to do now was follow this tunnel wherever it might lead and pray that at the other end was the surface.

When she'd managed to regain her breath, Cynder clumsily hoisted Spyro up onto her back again and began the long climb through the tunnel. The walls and ceiling were so tight that she had to take extreme care not to knock Spyro against them, but despite her best efforts she still ended up bumping him against the occasional unseen edge in the wall. Only a couple of seconds after leaving the entrance of the tunnel behind her Cynder's eyes were completely useless for navigating; there wasn't the slightest glimmer of light within the underground passage. However, where most dragons would be helpless in the dark, Cynder wasn't. She controlled the element of shadow, after all, and what was shadow but the absence of light? Using her power she was able to sense the tunnel ahead without difficulty, navigating each twist and turn as if she were walking in the brightest of sunlight.

She didn't know how long she walked. With no light and nothing but the same rock walls surrounding her she quickly lost all track of time. She simply placed one paw in front of the other, plodding almost mindlessly ahead, advancing by little more than her sheer strength of will. Twice the tunnel became so narrow that it was impossible for her to pass with Spyro on her back and she was forced to turn around and drag him along until the tunnel widened again. Dragging him was even more tiring that carrying him, and before long she was more exhausted than she had ever been in her life. Her chest burned, her legs ached, and her throat was so dry it felt as if it was on fire.

_I have to keep going,_ she told herself. _For Spyro. I can't stop_.

Some time later, just as Cynder was becoming afraid that her strength wouldn't hold out any longer, she became aware of a dim glow coming from farther ahead in the tunnel. Hopeful that it was the surface, Cynder quickened her pace. Soon enough the glow was bright enough that she didn't need to use her shadow powers to find her way through the tunnel anymore. This allowed her to proceed even more rapidly, though she didn't dare run in that confined space with Spyro on her back. A few seconds later she reached a sharp left bend in the passage and she hurried around it, delighted to be free from the tight underground passage at last and into the open air.

As soon as she rounded the corner, she was gravely disappointed by what she saw. Still, it wasn't an entirely unwelcome sight. It wasn't the end of the tunnel that was the source of the light. Instead it was a small vein of brightly growing crystal. The green spirit gem cast the surrounding tunnel in a calming emerald glow, and within its jagged facets Cynder could see wisps of light slowly flowing and twisting as if the gem itself was somehow alive.

It wasn't the sight she had been hoping for, but she was still glad to have found it. The long trek through the tunnel had thoroughly exhausted her, and the energy this crystal could provide her could very well be the difference between her reaching the surface or not. She eagerly moved toward it, delicately lowering Spyro to the ground once she had reached it. Then she turned to face the spirit gem.

For a short moment she just stood there, as if mesmerized by the shifting lights within the gem, but when she realized she was wasting time she roughly shook her head and lifted a forepaw into the air, slowly reaching toward the exposed crystal within the rock. As she expected, it was extremely cool to the touch and unbelievably smooth. She closed her eyes and focussed hard, and only a moment later she could feel the flow of energy beginning. It seeped its way up her foreleg, accompanied by a warm tingling sensation that chased the heavy weariness from her muscles. Then the sensation reached her core, and all at once she felt a rush of energy and vitality surging through her entire body, erasing all of her aches and tiredness in only a few moments. When the tingling sensation had faded Cynder gave a deep contented sigh.

"I _needed_ that," she said, already feeling her spirits lifting.

She was certain now that she could continue carrying Spyro for several hours if need be, and she couldn't imagine that the rest of the journey to the surface could take any longer than that. Her renewed energy had also given new strength to her determination, and she promised herself that she would get Spyro out of that tunnel before the day was up.

She was just about to lift him up onto her back again when a new thought occurred to her. If the spirit gem could restore her energy, maybe it could do the same for Spyro. Of course he wasn't conscious, so he couldn't use the crystal himself, but maybe there was a way...

Deciding that it couldn't hurt to try, Cynder carefully pulled Spyro closer to the patch of exposed gems before pausing for a moment in consideration. The way she figured it, if she could pull energy from the gems into her own body, what was to say that she couldn't redirect that energy into Spyro's body instead?

Closing her eyes again, Cynder rested one forepaw gently on Spyro's side before reaching forward with the other, soon finding the surface of the crystal and grabbing on to it. She focussed with all her might on the path she wanted the energy to follow, picturing the gem's power flowing through her body and into the purple dragon, giving him the energy he needed to continue clinging on to life. But after several seconds passed and nothing happened, Cynder began to grow fearful.

_Come on!_ she cried inwardly. _He needs this! Please, I need this to work!_

As if hearing her thoughts, a small trickle of energy suddenly emanated from inside the gem. Cynder could feel it slowly creep up her foreleg, much slower than it had before, and it seemed to take a tremendous force of will to keep it moving. Soon it had reached her chest, but then it stopped.

_No! Him, not me!_

She heaved an inward sigh when the energy resumed its journey, moving down her other foreleg and making its way gradually closer to Spyro. Soon enough it had reached her paw. Just a little farther and it would enter Spyro's body. Just a bit more...

The drain was so sudden and so unexpected that Cynder actually cried out in surprise and alarm. As soon as the trail of energy from the gem connected with Spyro it was as if an enormous vacuum had formed where his body was, sucking the energy away faster than it could be supplied. Cynder gasped in fear as she felt her own strength beginning to fade, pulled away into Spyro's body. The sensation was deeply frightening, and it rapidly became painful as the rate of the flow of energy increased, but she didn't stop. If it meant saving Spyro, she would give him every last ounce of strength she could spare.

However, despite her desire to continue channelling the energy into him, eventually it reached the point where Cynder simply couldn't continue and she broke contact. Immediately the rapid flow of energy ceased and Cynder swayed dizzily for a moment, feeling as if she had just emerged from a raging river that had been pulling her helplessly along at alarming speeds. She was barely aware that she was trembling, both from the residual effects of fear and from the sudden weakness in her limbs. For several minutes she just sat there, panting, trying to calm her racing heart.

"That was really weird," she gasped at length, lifting a paw to her chest to judge how fast her heart was beating.

Then a new thought intruded on her, and she immediately looked down at Spyro. It didn't look as if anything had changed; he was still lying there completely still, a blank, peaceful expression on his face. Anxiously she placed a paw against his chest.

She gave a deep sigh of relief when she was able to feel his pulse. It was definitely stronger than it had been before. His breathing also seemed to have become slightly steadier, and he wasn't quite as cold to the touch. Still, his condition was severe. She may have bought him some time, but spirit gems alone weren't going to be enough to sustain him. She needed to get moving.

After pausing just long enough to restore her own strength from the spirit gem and to break off a piece of the gem to bring along just in case, Cynder crouched down and manoeuvred Spyro onto her back once more. She found it much easier to lift him this time, and once she had him balanced on her shoulders and back and had tucked the gem piece under her wing she set off down the tunnel once more at a renewed pace. Before long she had left the spirit gem behind her, but the glow from the piece she had taken with her meant that she didn't have to rely so heavily on her shadow element to guide her, thereby allowing her to conserve more of her energy. Slowly but surely she advanced through the earth, growing nearer to the surface with each passing minute.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of walking, Cynder once again caught sight of a dim light up ahead. But this time she was certain that it wasn't the glow of a spirit gem. With excitement building rapidly in her chest, Cynder put on a burst of speed. She rounded one corner, then another, then finally the sight she had so desperately been hoping to see greeted her.

Sky.

The opening was too narrow to squeeze through, but a blast of convexity quickly fixed that. The tunnel here was the steepest yet, and it was quite a struggle for Cynder to scramble up the last few feet with Spyro hanging off her back, but at last she had pulled herself free of the passage and stood panting for a moment out in the open air, revelling in the feeling of fresh air in her lungs and the gentle breeze against her scales.

"We made it," she said, relief rushing through her. "We're out."

She didn't know where they were, but for the moment she didn't care. They were out of that accursed tunnel, and that was all that mattered for now. Looking around, she saw that they seemed to have emerged part way up the side of a small cliff. A narrow ledge led from the tunnel exit along the rock face, and deciding that it was her only option Cynder trod carefully along it, eyeing the drop to her right anxiously. However she was soon distracted from her fear of falling by the sight beyond the cliff. In the fading glow of the sunset a lush forest canopy stretched out to the horizon, interspersed with patches of open grassland and rolling hills. A small stream wound through the trees and hills, sparkling like thousands of diamonds in the fading light of the sun. The western horizon was lit up with a warm orange glow that eventually faded to a deep blue-violet before turning to black, a couple of stars barely visible against the last remaining sunlight.

"Wow," she murmured.

Before long the ledge she was following opened to a small plateau halfway up the cliff face. Here the stream she had seen before formed a small pool before spilling over the edge in a thin waterfall, the quiet sound of the water splashing against stone lending a calming air to the already peaceful landscape. Cynder gave a weary sigh and lowered Spyro carefully into the grass near the pool's edge under the cover of a small rock outcropping. Then she set herself down by his side, nudging over until their flanks were barely touching and resting her wing over his back to offer him some warmth for the night. She simply lay like that for a long time, staring out over the land below, watching the stars emerge one by one.

"You did it, Spyro," she said softly, awed by the beauty of it all. "I just wish you could see this..."

Giving one final sigh tinged with just a hint of sadness, Cynder laid her head down in the soft grass and closed her eyes, feeling unbelievably tired after all the day's exertions. She felt as if she could sleep for weeks on end, and a part of her wished that she could. But she knew that when morning came she would be faced with a whole new set of challenges: how to nurse Spyro back to health so that they could return to Warfang. She had no idea how she was going to accomplish this, and prayed to the Ancestors that an answer would present itself in time.

Still, there was nothing she could do until morning came, and for the time being she decided to take advantage of this opportunity to get some well looked forward to rest. Within moments she had drifted off into a deep slumber, feeling all her troubles floating away...


	3. Chapter 2

**Another quick update, and this time it's a big one! I think this is officially the longest chapter I have ever written for any book. Hope it's interesting enough to keep you going through the whole thing!**_  
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><p><em><span>Chapter 2:<span>_

"So, it seems as though our young friend survived his engagement with my former servant."

The enormous purple dragon gave a low, thoughtful growl as he turned away from the massive stone ring that occupied most of the floor space in the cavern, allowing the image that had been suspended within it to fade away. The younger purple dragon, the one that was the same age as Spyro, stood watching the image as it dissipated, catching one final glimpse of Spyro lying unconscious with Cynder curled up by his side before the image vanished completely, replaced by the smooth stone beneath. Then, once the image was gone, the young dragon turned slightly to face his master and waited patiently.

His name was Nexus, and he had spent his entire life in the Dark Realms under the direct supervision of his master, though he would often spend hours at a time sitting by the edge of the stone ring and using it to observe the going's on of life in the Dragon Realms, the world he had never yet been allowed to see in person. In particular, he would observe the actions of Spyro and sometimes those close to him. Being the only other purple dragon alive of the same age, Nexus felt as if Spyro was closely connected to him in some way, even if he had never met the other dragon before.

At times he envied Spyro for the life he had been able to live. He got to grow up happily in the Dragon Realms, whereas Nexus had been forced to struggle for his very survival in this forsaken land that served as his master's prison, having to learn from an early age how to defend himself from the other monstrous creatures that inhabited this realm and how to scrounge up enough food to keep himself alive. And when he wasn't battling the elements he was training relentlessly under the direction of his master, forcing himself to grow stronger, faster, and more ruthless with each passing day. As a result he often felt a swell of bitterness whenever he saw Spyro in the ring, surrounded by friends and family who cared about him, but nonetheless he couldn't stop watching him. The connection he felt between them made it impossible for him to ignore the other purple dragon.

That, and the fact that his master was also deeply interested in Spyro's actions and whereabouts in that world.

"This may actually work in our favour," the larger dragon rumbled suddenly, catching Nexus by surprise.

"Master?" Nexus said inquisitively.

"I had expected Spyro to die in the final battle with Malefor," his master explained, turning around to face the much smaller dragon. "Even without him expending so much power to pull their world back from the brink of destruction, I expected that Malefor would have been a strong enough adversary to bring Spyro down with him. Obviously I overestimated his abilities, and underestimated Spyro's."

"So you believe he's stronger than Malefor was?"

His master gave a low, chilling laugh. "Yes, just as you are. The two of you are bound for great things, I think."

Nexus grinned, swelling with pride. But it wasn't the sort of bright grin one would expect from a young dragon his age. This grin was tinged with darker sentiments, and a hint of malice glinted in his red-violet eyes.

"But the fact that Spyro has survived has complicated matters," his master continued. "He is weakened, certainly, but he will recover. When he does, who knows what he will grow to be capable of?"

"So what are we going to do?" Nexus asked, puzzled.

"Simple," the massive dragon responded. "We're going to bring him back. Or rather, you are."

Nexus jerked upright in surprise, a confused rush of differing emotions surging through him, but most prevalently surprise and excitement. Surprise because of what his master had said about Spyro, and excitement because it sounded as if his master was finally going to send him into the Dragon Realms.

_Finally, a chance to prove myself!_ he thought with barely-contained eagerness.

"What do you mean, bring him back?"

His master gave a small chuckle, as if amused by the question.

"Well, obviously we can't have him roaming aimlessly about, especially now that he seems to have developed the idea that it's his duty to protect that world. No, he can still be of enormous benefit to us, but only if we correct this unfortunate mistake on his part."

"I'm not quite sure I understand, Master," Nexus said uncertainly.

The larger dragon's amused expression began to fade, and immediately Nexus felt a twinge of unease within his gut.

"Think, my apprentice," his master growled. "The power of the purple dragon is one that is unmatched in that world. That is why my servants and I have been able to instill such fear amongst them in the past. But imagine the implications if, suddenly, that power becomes directed against us instead of for us."

Nexus faltered, beginning to grasp what his master meant.

"With Malefor disposed of, it was going to fall to you to bring about the great Cleansing and release me from this realm, but it will present a great problem for you if, ten generations from now, I send you to accomplish this mission and Spyro is there standing against you. No, we cannot allow this to happen."

"Then what do you want me to do?"

"Your mission has changed," his master declared. "Before this turn of events I was going to have you remain here and continue your training, but time is of the essence. Spyro must be shown the error of his ways. He must be shown the truth about his destiny, and you are going to be the dragon to do it."

Nexus gave a low whistle, only now beginning to realize the enormity of the situation he found himself in. He had always watched Spyro from afar, at the same time envying him bitterly and idolizing him, but now he was actually going to be going up against him?

"So, what, I'm going to go down there and somehow convince him to abandon his life there and come back here?" He glanced around at the dark cavern. "Somehow I don't think he's going to be all that attracted to the idea, given where he's at right now."

"Indeed, which is why you're going to need to persuade him."

"Persuade him?" Nexus repeated, surprised. "How?"

"That will be up to you to determine. It will require cunning, but I think you are up to the task."

Nexus hesitated for just a brief moment, but then he grinned again as a new feeling of pride rose up within him at the hint of praise from his master—coming from him, those words were definitely something to be proud of.

"I won't let you down," he declared, puffing his chest out and raising his head high.

"You had better not," his master replied.

Shifting his massive bulk, the large purple dragon turned to his left until he sat facing the stone ring again. Then he lifted his enormous forepaws and rested them on the raised rim, his expression settling into a deep scowl as he closed his eyes and focused hard. The drain on his power was easily visible, and Nexus knew that it was an arduous task, what his master was doing now. But soon enough a small, swirling mass of what almost appeared to be a glowing mist formed at the centre of the ring, rapidly expanding until, a moment later, it filled the entire ring with its energy. It was a convexity portal, appearing identical to the one Malefor had appeared out of.

"Now go," his master ordered gruffly, cracking one blood-red eye open and fixing him with a commanding glare. "The portal will open near to the Well of Souls. There shouldn't be anyone there to notice your arrival, and if I am correct you should be able to find some assistance for your mission. Move carefully; Spyro has proven that he's not an adversary to take lightly."

"Yes Master," Nexus said with a sharp nod.

The larger dragon gave a single nod of approval. "Let the circumstances of Malefor's return serve as a warning of what is to come if you fail me. Everything rests on you now, young dragon."

Nexus nodded again. Then, gathering his courage and feeling his excitement rising exponentially with every second that passed, he turned toward the swirling portal and paused just long enough for a final deep breath before he leapt high into the air, pointed his nose downward and flapped his wings hard, shooting into the portal and disappearing from sight.

The trip through the portal took only a few seconds, and the entire time Nexus kept his eyes sealed tightly shut. He knew from experience that the swirling lights would completely disorient him in moments, and he didn't want to emerge from the other side dizzy and on the verge of being ill. Losing his lunch would not be a good way to instil the confidence of his master.

Only a short moment later he could hear the roar of the portal reaching a peak, which he knew signified that the other end was approaching rapidly. Then there was the expected lurch, and all at once the noise died away. Nexus opened his eyes and gradually unfurled his wings, bringing himself into a fast but controlled dive for the slope of the ruined mountain ahead, silhouetted by the glow of the moons in the night. Out of engrained habit he glanced around to make certain that there was no one nearby that might see him. Then, satisfied that the coast was clear, he increased the angle of his descent, soon touching down on the steeply sloped rock face of the mountain.

He paused for a moment to examine his surroundings. Even in the darkness of night he could make out the richly leaved trees and bushes at the base of the mountain and the soft clouds drifting lazily by overhead. The faint sound of crickets and other nocturnal creatures reached his ears, and he was immediately struck by the peace and tranquility of it all. The very air around him seemed to be absolutely filled with life. It was so different than what he had grown accustomed to his whole life, and for a second he was transfixed by it.

He shook his head roughly, reminding himself forcefully that he wasn't there to sightsee. He had a mission to accomplish, which first meant that he had a great deal of planning to do. How was he going to get to Spyro? He knew that his counterpart would likely be making his way back to Warfang over the next few days, and when he got there he would be surrounded by an army of moles, cheetahs and some dragons. On his own, Nexus doubted that he would be able to reach him.

Just then he heard the sound of shifting stones on the rock face above him, and immediately he went rigid and whirled on the source of the sound, his every sense straining for signs of an attack. What he saw instead, though, was a small bristly head dart back behind the cover of a rock outcropping, and in the moment it had been visible Nexus thought he had seen the glow of red eyes. He grinned.

"Perfect," he muttered to himself, an idea beginning to form in the back of his mind.

Without making the slightest sound, Nexus crouched low to the ground and began creeping toward the place where he had seen the small creature, hoping that he would be able to track it back to its origin, and hoping that when he got there he found many, many more of them waiting.

***.*.***

Three days since leaving the tunnel and cliff face behind, Cynder was beginning to feel like she wasn't making any progress at all.

When she awoke to yet another cruelly beautiful morning, it took her several long minutes to work the accumulated stiffness out of her body. Carrying Spyro's limp form for hours on end every day was really beginning to take a toll on her. Her back and paws ached from being forced to bear so much additional weight, and no matter how hard she tried to fight it a deep-seeded weariness was beginning to overpower her.

The morning after emerging from the tunnel she had glided down from the small cliff with Spyro and had decided to travel along the stream through the fields and forest in the hopes of finding some sort of civilization for assistance. Following the stream had been logical for a number of reasons: For one thing it gave her a reliable and constant source of water, which she had needed quite often since then, and also it seemed most likely that a settlement or village would be located close to water. However, to her disappointment, this hope had yet to be fulfilled. There had been no sign of a village of any kind since reaching the surface.

She groaned tiredly as she rose to her feet and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. For a long moment she simply sat there, letting the light of the early morning sun warm the scales along her back and shoulders. The landscape around her was still as usual, with only the soft sound of the stream breaking the silence. She had seen very little in the way of animal life so far in the area, but she knew they were around; while carrying Spyro she had seen plenty of signs of their passing, but she didn't want to leave him alone long enough to go hunting, no matter how hungry she was. The sky was almost completely clear of clouds that morning as well. Everything appeared bright and serene.

She almost hated it.

Cynder knew she should be happy. After all, she and Spyro had succeeded in ridding the world of Malefor's evil once and for all. With him gone her past was now firmly behind her and she could finally begin working to create a new, better future for herself, one where she didn't have to feel ashamed of who she was.

The problem was that the only dragon she wanted to make that future with was lying beside her on the brink of death, and with his condition so grim it seemed almost as if her surroundings were taunting her with a peace and happiness she couldn't have. He hadn't so much as cracked open an eyelid or uttered a single sound since she had brought him to the surface. She had been trying her best to keep his strength up with energy from the crystal she had brought along without depleting her own energy too much in the process, but while this prevented his condition from worsening he wasn't showing any sign of improvement either. What if he didn't get better? What if she was unable to find assistance before it was too late? She was no healer. She was a skilful fighter and an experienced leader and strategist, but matters of health and healing was one area where she was woefully uninformed.

She sighed sadly, realizing that fretting over her situation wouldn't help Spyro at all. She turned her attention to the piece of spirit gem that lay in the grass tucked against Spyro's side—she had placed it there in the hopes that overnight some of its energy might seep into his body and help him recover faster, but she couldn't tell if it had worked at all. It's once bright and vibrant emerald glow had faded to a mere fraction of what it had been as its store of energy had gradually been depleted over the past three days. Cynder had been rationing it carefully, drawing only as much strength from it as she needed to continue on each day, but despite her efforts there was hardly anything left. There was barely enough to give her the boost she needed to begin the day.

Cynder sighed again, realizing that she didn't have a choice. She was going to have to hunt if she was going to have the strength to continue carrying Spyro any farther. After looking around quickly she located a sheltered thicket in the bushes where Spyro was relatively well hidden from sight and protected from wind and sunlight.

"I'm sorry, Spyro," she whispered before turning and walking away.

She paused only for as long as it took to drain the last remaining energy from the spirit gem into her body. Then she took to the air in search of a meal.

She tried not to feel too guilty about leaving Spyro's side. She had known for some time now that she would eventually need to hunt. While spirit gems could restore her strength temporarily, she couldn't survive on them. If anything, Cynder knew that it was actually dangerous to rely on them for strength for as long as she had. While in the short term it might feel like she was helping her body, in truth by constantly fuelling herself with outside energy she was forcing her body to work harder without properly nourishing it. If she continued on like that for much longer she could starve herself to death without ever feeling tired.

Suddenly curious, Cynder reached down with a forepaw and rested it against her flank. She gasped in surprise when she felt her ribs poking through beneath her scales.

_I really have put this off for too long_, she realized.

Before long she had found what looked to be a likely place to locate a meal, and less than a half hour later she was winging her way back to where she had left Spyro with her catch dangling from her jaws; a pair of small rabbits she had cornered in the underbrush. It wasn't much longer before the stream came back into view, then the thicket where Spyro lay. With a slight feeling of anxiety, she glided down toward it.

Her fears were put to rest when she saw Spyro lying exactly where she had left him. Moving quietly, she slipped into the thicket and curled up against Spyro's side before setting to work devouring her catches.

"Oh, I sure needed that," she sighed contentedly when her meal was finished, stretching out in the soft grass to rest, her stomach warm and full for the first time in days.

She was almost tempted to pause and take a short nap, feeling wonderfully relaxed now that she was no longer under the constant torment of an empty stomach, but for Spyro's sake she decided against it. She figured she could only afford a short rest before she needed to be moving on, and she worried that in her current weary state if she did fall asleep she might not wake up until much later that afternoon.

As she had been doing often those past couple of days, Cynder paused to evaluate Spyro's condition. It saddened her to see him in such a state. The colour of his scales was even duller now than ever, appearing almost grey instead of their normal vibrant purple. He was also beginning to grow thin from malnourishment, and days without water had left him dehydrated. Now his lips were dry and beginning to crack. He needed food and he needed water, but she had no idea what she could do to help him if he wouldn't wake up.

"Spyro, why did you do this to yourself?" she asked sadly, reaching up with a paw to stroke to crest on the top of his head.

However, as soon as her paw made contact with his scales she faltered. The last few times she had checked on him he had felt cold to her touch, but now she thought she felt warmth instead. She wondered for a moment if it was from the sun, but she soon discounted that possibility because of how shaded it was within the thicket. She shifted her paw forward, closer to his brow, and immediately her own brow furrowed in concern.

It was hot.

"Oh no," she muttered, quickly getting to her feet. "That's not good."

Now seized by worry, Cynder rushed out of the thicket and made a dash for the nearby forest. She searched about at an almost frantic pace before locating a low bush with thick, broad leaves. She quickly snapped one off from the plant, then hurried to the stream. She was pleased to find that the leaf was stiff enough that it held its shape when she dipped it into the gentle flow of the water. Moving carefully so as not to drop any of its contents, she turned around and carried the leaf back into the thicket. Only a minute later she was using her paw to dab the cool water on the purple dragon's brow. In truth she didn't really know what she was doing; she just hoped that it would bring his fever down.

However, much to her surprise, the water had a very different effect. Shortly after she began applying the liquid to his forehead, Spyro suddenly gave a muffled groan. It came so unexpectedly that Cynder nearly jumped out of her scales, a small squeak of surprise escaping her as she surged to her feet, nearly overturning the leaf full of water in the process. Then he groaned again, louder this time.

"Spyro?" Cynder said softly, scarcely daring to hope.

She gave a muffled gasp as his eyelid fluttered slightly at the sound of her voice. Then, slowly, his eyes gradually cracked open. They had a clouded appearance, the normally bright lavender colour appearing slightly dulled like his scales. However they slowly began to clear as they swivelled around to take in the dragon's surroundings.

"Where...where am I?" he mumbled in a strained voice.

"I don't know," Cynder replied after a hesitant pause, caught in a mild state of shock at his sudden awakening.

Hearing her voice seemed to help draw him further out of his bleary state. His eyes opened a little wider, and he managed to turn his head slightly toward her.

"Cynder?" he murmured. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Spyro, I'm here," she said immediately, hurrying back to his side as she shook off her own daze. "How...how are you feeling?"

Spyro didn't answer for a moment, apparently trying to judge his own condition. He gave a weak grunt as he tried to lift his head to look around, but it seemed as if even this were too difficult of a task for him. In the end he gave a weak sigh and simply said, "Tired."

"Here," Cynder told him, suddenly remembering the leaf filled with water. "Drink this. It might help."

Spyro gladly accepted the water when she held the leaf up for him. He drained the entire contents of the leaf after several slow gulps. Then, as if even that had been an exhausting effort, he closed his eyes and allowed his head to sink limply back into the grass. Though immensely relieved that he had regained consciousness, it pained Cynder tremendously to see him so weak.

"Is...is the world...?" he said hesitantly a moment later, opening his eyes to look at her again, and in them Cynder could see the worry he felt. "Did I...?"

Cynder nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. "Yes. You did it Spyro. Everything's back to the way it should be."

He sighed heavily, obviously relieved to hear this news. "I was so worried...that I wouldn't be able to stop it..."

"_You_ were worried?" Cynder snorted with a hint of amusement. "You had _me _worried, Spyro. You've been unconscious for three days. I was really starting to get scared."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled sheepishly, looking at her with a guilty look in his eyes.

"Don't be," she hushed him immediately. "I'm just glad that you're awake now."

"I feel so tired..."

"I'm not surprised. Just rest for now. Here." She reached around and pulled the scraps she had saved from her second rabbit closer for him. "I saved these in case you woke up. You should try and eat something."

Spyro nodded and weakly reached forward for the scraps of meat. While he ate Cynder grabbed the leaf again and returned to the stream for more water to help wash the food down. However, just as she was returning to the thicket, she heard a ragged cough erupt from within. It was promptly followed by several more, and Cynder felt a surge of worry. She dashed back into the thicket to find Spyro struggling to control his coughing, his throat apparently becoming aggravated by the solid food. In a flash Cynder was by his side, placing a comforting paw on his back while bringing the water closer for him.

"Here," she instructed. "This will help."

Spyro nodded between coughs and tried to take a sip of the water she offered to him, but as soon as he did his entire body heaved with another cough, nearly causing him to choke on the water he had just taken in. He made a spluttering sound before spitting the water back out, a violent cough following right behind that splashed the contents of the leaf all over the place, including on Cynder.

"Sorry!" he choked, still unable to calm his coughing.

"It's fine," she said immediately, far more concerned about him than a little wetness. "Just try and take it easy."

He nodded again, and gradually he was able to relax his body and the coughing became less intense. This time when he tried to take a sip of water he was successful, and he gave a relieved and tired sigh as the cool liquid finally soothed the coughing, allowing him to breathe easily again.

"Did you get any food down?" Cynder asked concernedly.

He gave a weak nod. "Just a little."

Cynder glanced toward the remaining scraps. It quickly became clear that he had hardly been able to eat any of it at all. Only half of one of the small strips was gone, maybe even a bit less. That would hardly sustain him for long, but it was also obvious that he wouldn't be eating any more; he was still emitting muffled coughs every few seconds.

"Alright," she sighed at length. "I guess we should get moving. We need to find you some help."

Spyro made no reply, instead trying to suppress another cough. Setting the leaf aside, Cynder shifted over until she was against his side and began lifting the purple dragon up onto her back once again. Spyro, realizing what she was trying to do, sifted his weight to the side and lifted his right forepaw slightly to make it easier for her, and Cynder was immensely grateful that he was able to move to help her now; it was so much less of a challenge to get him settled into position when he wasn't just dead weight. When he was finally balanced on her back Cynder pushed out of the thicket and turned to follow the stream's current, moving along at a hurried pace. As she walked, Cynder was aware of Spyro looking around at their surroundings with wide eyes, apparently awed by the tranquility of it all just as she had been upon first exiting the tunnel.

"It kind of looks...like the Valley of Avalar," he commented after a number of minutes had passed.

"I sort of does," Cynder agreed, glancing around for a moment at the trees and the stream. "But if this were Avalar we would have reached the cheetah village a _long_ time ago. As it is, I have no idea what this place is."

"How...did we even get...here?"

Cynder snorted with bitter laughter. "Oh, I can tell you, it wasn't fun. I got us here. Let's just leave it at that."

Spyro was silent, apparently deciding to abide by Cynder's suggestion. Instead he lowered his head so that it rested against the base of her shoulders just below her neck, looking out at the world around them without uttering a word.

Cynder didn't mind the quiet. Before she had found it slightly depressing, but now that Spyro was awake she was able to find comfort in his company, even if he wasn't saying anything. Her spirits were quickly lifting, and with it her determination to get Spyro to safety redoubled in strength. But at the same time the raspy tone she had heard in his voice and the soft wheezing that accompanied his breathing reminded her of the urgency of the situation and kept her of a serious mindset. On top of that she could almost feel his fever worsening through her scales, and this concerned her deeply.

Thankfully, though, there were no more surprises that day. While Spyro still succumbed to the occasional coughing fit they were few and far between for the most part. By the time the sun was beginning to set and Cynder found a sheltered grove between a stand of fir trees that seemed to be an ideal place to stop for the night, Spyro had already fallen back asleep. Taking extreme care not to wake him, Cynder cautiously lowered him to the earth before finding another leaf for water, which she promptly filled in the stream and set on the ground in front of Spyro in case he should awaken in the night from coughing. Then she stepped around to his side and nestled up against him, eager to rest after yet another day of walking.

***.*.***

_Drip._

Cynder groaned lightly in her sleep when she felt something splash against the top of her pointed snout, but didn't fully awaken. She had been in the middle of a dream, in which she and Spyro were back at Warfang with the guardians, including Ignitus, around them, as well as Hunter and Sparx and the rest of their companions, revelling in the festivities that had swept the city. At that moment, she would have much rather returned to that dream than wake up.

Unfortunately, it wasn't to be.

_Drip._

The black dragoness flinched slightly as this time she felt a splash on her eyelid, and this time she was unable to simply shrug it off. With an irritated sigh she opened her eyes, finding—as she had suspected—that it was still sometime near the middle of the night, the forest covered in darkness.

_Drip_.

She realized that it was water she was feeling, and at that moment there came a deep, distant rumble from somewhere overhead and to the west. Puzzled, Cynder looked up through the branches of the trees underneath which they were sheltered, trying to see the sky. At first she didn't see anything, though she knew she should have been able to see stars, or at least the moons. Then it hit her; the sky had become completely overcast with clouds.

The rumble came again, and at the same time the light pattering of rain could be heard against the leaves of the forest and in the surface of the stream nearby. Cynder felt a shiver run through her as more and more cold raindrops struck her scales at an ever increasing rate.

_Oh, come on_, she groaned in her mind. _Now?_

Much to her own dismay, she was right. At that very moment the light sprinkling suddenly became a full-on deluge. A tremendous crash of thunder shook the air at the same time that the rain began falling in heavy sheets, soaking everything instantly for miles in every direction and causing the temperature on that already-chilly night to plummet.

Biting back a curse, Cynder pushed herself to her feet and proceeded to try and brush away the bits of leaves and mud that had already become stuck to the scales of her underbelly because of the rain. However, at that moment, a new sound suddenly caught her attention.

Startled out of his peaceful sleep by the rain and thunder, Spyro was now in the middle of a violent fit of coughing. He barely had time to gasp in a breath of air before the next string of coughs burst from his throat, sounding horribly strained and ragged. Cynder realized with a surge of fear that the cold temperatures that night must have caused his condition to worsen dramatically; it looked as if he could hardly breathe.

Forgetting all about her own discomfort, Cynder was standing over him in a flash trying to pick him up off the cold ground. Somehow, despite the way his chest was heaving and the slick layer of water that was accumulating on his scales, she managed to manoeuvre him up onto her back.

_I need to find shelter for him_, she thought frantically. _And fast!_

She immediately took off running northward, following the path of the stream just as she had been for the past three days, except that now she wasn't concerned about pacing herself and preserving her energy. She could already feel the driving rain chilling her to the bone, and could only imagine how much worse it would be for Spyro. His coughing hadn't stopped yet either, and only seemed to be getting worse by the second.

"Hang on, Spyro," she pleaded. "I'll get you out of this. I promise. Just hang on!"

Whether he heard her over the thunder and the rain or not, she didn't know, but in the end it didn't matter. She could barely see where she was going in the dark, constantly having to blink water out of her eyes, but her fear for Spyro drove her to run ever faster nonetheless. The grass beneath her paws had become frigid to the touch because of the rain, and her paws were growing numb from the cold as a result. Spyro was faring even worse; Cynder could feel him shivering violently all along the length of his body and she knew that he must be many times colder than she was, since she had his body shielding her from most of the rain while he had no such protection.

"Come on, there has to be some kind of shelter somewhere!" she exclaimed desperately. "Where's a cave or something when you need it?"

She gave a loud startled cry when her left forepaw suddenly struck an exposed root in the ground in front of her, and before she could catch herself she crashed face first into the soggy ground, sliding several feet in the freezing mud. Spyro was roughly thrown from her back, landing a couple of metres in front of her, also in the cold mud, coming to rest sprawled out on his back with his chest heaving as he tried to take a breath between coughs.

"Hold on, Spyro, I'm coming!"

It was far more difficult than Cynder had imagined getting her feet underneath her in the slick mud, and twice more she fell flat on her face before finally managing to steady herself. Then, throwing caution completely to the wind, she leapt forward and in two bounds had reached Spyro's side, nearly slipping again and crashing right into him. She spread one of her wings out over him to try and protect him from the rain as much as possible while she searched about desperately for somewhere nearby to find protection from the downpour.

At that moment a fork of lightning split the sky, and in the brief instant that the forest was illuminated Cynder thought she saw something to her left. Squinting into the night, she realized that it was the mouth of a small cave, sitting at the crest of a small hill just inside the tree line. She couldn't believe her luck.

"Alright, Spyro, almost there," she said breathlessly. "We'll be out of this soon."

Knowing it would take too long to try and lift him up again, especially with them both covered in the slippery mud, Cynder decided instead to simply pull him up to the cave opening. She wrapped one foreleg around his neck, then began hopping clumsily backward on three legs toward the newly-discovered shelter, desperate to get Spyro inside before he succumbed to the cold. Before, she had been worried about his fever. Now she was terrified that he would go into hypothermia if she wasn't quick enough.

Before long she had crossed half the distance to the cave, slipping frequently but refusing to allow her pace to drop. Soon after she had only a few metres left to go, then a few feet. Finally, with one last great heave, she pulled Spyro through the opening and into the dry interior of the small cave.

She nearly collapsed breathlessly once she was sure Spyro was safely out of the rain, but she forced herself to remain standing; there was no time to give in to weariness while Spyro might still be in trouble. His coughing had given way to a feeble wheezing, and it looked as if he was barely clinging to consciousness. His eyes were closed tightly, one forepaw gripping at his chest as he tried and failed to take in a full breath of air.

"Spyro!" she called fearfully. "Spyro, just relax! Look at me, Spyro!"

"And what do we have here?"

Cynder gave a startled gasp and whirled around at the sudden voice that came from deeper within the cave. The voice had been low and gruff, bearing a cold edge to it that immediately made her anxious that its owner wasn't friendly. At first she saw nothing within the cave, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness she was suddenly able to make out five distinct figures.

Wolves.

Cynder felt a wave of anxiety surge through her. She had never encountered a wolf before, but the stories she had heard about them in the past had told that they were fiercely territorial creatures, as well as being very strong and skilled at fighting in defence of those territories. Now, not only had she apparently wandered into the territory of this group of canines, but she had just barged right into their den!

"A dragon," the large wolf seated against the centre of the back wall of the cave said, surprise evident in his rumbling voice. Cynder realized that he had been the wolf that had spoken while her back had been turned.

"Two dragons," another wolf piped up, leaning over to look past Cynder to where Spyro was lying.

"And what brings dragons to our lands? We wolves haven't had any encounters with your kind for centuries. Not since we were driven south from the lands you claimed as your own."

Cynder thought she detected an edge of hostility in the wolf's husky tone, and a wave of fear seeped through her. She took a step backward, edging closer to Spyro who was still sprawled out on the ground and defenceless.

"We're...we're lost," she replied nervously.

"Lost, are you?" the wolf at the back of the cave, who seemed to be the group's leader, said sceptically. "And why would you be all the way out here in the first place?"

Cynder was too nervous to answer, feeling very vulnerable within this tight space. Glancing around, she saw that most of the wolves had spears within easy reach, and she knew that the long, pointed weapons would be lethal when she and Spyro had no room to avoid them. She tensed when a wolf on the right side of the cave suddenly grabbed hold of his spear and rose to his feet, taking a couple of steps toward the two dragons, leaning on the spear like a walking stick as he examined them with piercing yellow eyes and sniffed at the air.

"Last I heard, you dragons were caught up in some kind of war," the leader continued, catching Cynder's attention again. "Is that why you're here? Hoping to escape from the fighting, maybe? Two young dragons on the run?"

"Alpha," the wolf that had stood up cut in suddenly before Cynder could answer. She was surprised to see that he had moved even closer while she had been looking at the lead wolf, moving so silently that she hadn't even noticed. He was now leaning forward with a look of great surprise in his expression, peering at Spyro. "This one is purple."

All fell silent immediately within the tight space for a long moment, the wolves staring at the speaker in disbelief. During this pause Cynder edged even closer to Spyro, unnerved by their reaction to him and fearing what they might do to him.

"The fabled purple dragon," the alpha said in a strange tone, leaning forward in his seat as if to try and get a better view of Spyro.

"You...you know about the stories?" Cynder asked, surprised.

"Oh, yes, even outside your lands the legend of the purple dragon of prophecy is a well-known tale," the wolf replied. "Although the last news we received from up north claimed that it was a purple dragon behind the entire war going on up there. Could this be that dragon, I wonder?"

"But they're hardly more than hatchlings," another wolf protested doubtfully. "He can't be the one."

"No, I suppose not," the alpha grunted. "A descendant, maybe?"

Cynder snarled viciously, causing all the wolves to jump back in surprise. She had flared her wings wide challengingly, and now she stood glaring at the alpha wolf with her gleaming fangs bared and her eyes burning with anger.

"Spyro has _nothing_ to do with Malefor!" she snapped, all traces of fear gone from her voice.

"No? Interesting," the wolf said, regaining his composer with surprising ease. "But tell me, why so defensive? You realize that we have no desire to harm you."

Cynder faltered, and her wings fell slightly as she gazed questioningly at the wolf. Was he being sincere? She glanced around at the canines again and could see that none of their postures were threatening, not even the one with the spear.

"What?" she said at length.

"What reason would we have to harm a fellow hunter such as yourself?" the alpha asked, holding his paws out palm-up in a puzzled gesture that seemed genuine. "We wolves may not appreciate being forced to move our territories southward, but we have no quarrel with dragons either."

The other wolves all nodded their heads in agreement. Though still uncertain, Cynder began to feel less suspicious of them.

"Though I ask again," the alpha continued. "What brings you here to our territory? You're quite a long way from your home."

"Well..." Cynder began hesitantly, "we got...separated."

"Separated?"

She nodded. "It's a bit of a long story..."

"I gathered as much, considering the colour of your friend."

Cynder was about to begin her explanation, but a sudden cough from Spyro drew the attention of everyone else in the cave. Cynder gasped, unable to believe that she had almost forgotten about him. She spun around and anxiously rested a paw against his flank. He was still trembling violently, and his scales felt like ice.

"Please, he's very sick," she said, a desperate tone creeping into her voice as she spun around again to face the alpha wolf. "He needs help."

The wolf that had approached them leaned over to the side again to get a better look at Spyro past Cynder. Then he lowered his spear to the ground before stepping forward and dropping to one knee by the purple dragon's side. Cynder watched him anxiously, still worried about Spyro's safety, but she made no move to stop the wolf as he extended a paw and placed it on Spyro's side like she had.

"Well, Feris?" the alpha said expectantly.

"He's very cold, Alpha," the wolf responded. "And he appears quite weak."

"Hmm," the alpha wolf grunted, his expression grim. Then he shifted his gaze to a wolf sitting close to his right. "Start a fire."

The wolf gave a sharp nod and quickly obeyed, moving to a small pile of dried wood that had been gathered into the middle of the cave and arranging it for lighting. Once the wood was in position and the kindling prepared, the wolf struck a piece of flint against the tip of his spear and there was a flash as a hail of sparks rained down on the kindling, catching easily. Soon the wolf had a small but warm blaze going, filling the cave with a soothing orange glow. The wolf that had moved toward Spyro and Cynder leaned over and scooped Spyro up in his arms, promptly carrying the barely-conscious dragon deeper into the cave before laying him down beside the fire. Cynder followed anxiously right on his heels. Now that he was in the light of the fire, the wolves all exchanged silent murmurs of surprise when they saw just how bad the purple dragon's condition was.

"I've never seen a creature in such a state," a she-wolf commented in what almost sounded like shock. "How long was he in that rain?"

"Not very long," Cynder replied. "But he was sick before." She glanced around hopefully at the wolves. "Can you do anything for him?"

There was no answer for a long moment, all of the wolves deep in thought. The wolf who had carried Spyro in, Feris, was checking over Spyro's condition in great detail, examining him for wounds, checking his pulse and temperature, even bending over to listen to his breathing. The other wolves all watched him as he worked, and Cynder got the impression that he was the most knowledgeable among them concerning matters of illness and healing.

"It is difficult to tell," the wolf sighed a moment later. He turned to look at Cynder. "Perhaps if you could tell me more about how he got in this condition..."

Cynder nodded slowly. "Alright. But it's a complicated story, and it would probably be best if I started from the very beginning."

"We have time," the alpha wolf said calmly, gesturing with an open paw toward the rain falling outside the cave. "You may as well come closer to the fire and make yourself comfortable. You look like you could use the warmth as well."

Cynder gave a hesitant nod in thanks and slowly edged her way closer to the flames, still feeling wary surrounded by the five wolves but unable to resist the temptation of warming herself by the fire after getting caught in the frigid downpour. Once she was settled, she began telling her story.

It took the better part of an hour to relate everything. She began with the story of Malefor's rise to power and his imprisonment by the guardians of the time in Convexity. Then she spoke of the prophecy of the purple dragon—though they already seemed to most know it. She finished off with Spyro's endeavours to free her from Malefor's power, as well as her and Spyro's final struggle against the Dark Master and the events of the ensuing days. The wolves all listened in complete silence, giving the dragoness their full attention. When she was finished she averted her gaze uncomfortably, staring at the stone floor in front of her, feeling very self-conscious after revealing so much about her past and Spyro's to the wolves.

"That's quite the story," the alpha commented at last. "Feris, now that you've heard what this dragon has been through, what do you think?"

The wolf shrugged in a helpless manner and shook his head, and Cynder felt fear grip at her chest when she saw this.

"I don't know," he sighed. "It's unlike any ailment I've ever seen. If I had to make a guess, I would say that using so much power drained him to the point that he simply cannot recover on his own. Maybe under intensive care he could regain his strength, but other than that I don't know what can be done."

"Perhaps if we were back at the village he would have a chance," one of the other wolves commented. "But not here."

"Wait," Cynder spoke up, puzzled. "You mean you don't live here?"

The wolves all stared at her for a moment before laughter broke out among them, though it was short-lived given the circumstances. Cynder looked away again and tried to hide her embarrassment.

"No, no, our village lies many days' travel to the south-west," the alpha wolf replied with a hint of a grin. "This is simply a temporary den we use on extended hunting trips."

"In any case, the village is too far to reach, I fear," Feris said grimly, his attention on Spyro again.

There was a long pause, and as Cynder studied their grim expressions she felt helplessness growing inside her. Were they saying that there was no hope? But they couldn't just give up on Spyro!

"There are the moles," the she-wolf spoke up suddenly.

"Moles?" Cynder repeated, surprised. "There are moles living outside of Warfang?"

"Yes, they are a widespread race," the alpha answered. "They have a village only a day's travel to the north of here. They have no regular contact with dragons as their brethren in your dragon city do, but they may still be able to offer assistance."

"Well then let's go!" Cynder exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "We have to get Spyro over there!"

"Now slow down, young dragoness," the alpha said calmly, holding up a paw. "We cannot leave tonight."

"What?" Cynder said incredulously. "But Spyro needs help! You don't think that he needs treatment as soon as possible?"

"I do. Time is certainly of the essence in this situation."

"Then why—"

"Because, more than that, tim_ing_ is of equally great importance," the wolf told her firmly. "Look outside. If you take your friend out in that, he will not survive another hour."

As if to reinforce the wolf's point a string of weak coughs emitted from Spyro at that moment, sounding terribly strained and feeble.

"We must wait for the rain to pass. Then it will be possible to bring him to the moles. Until that time we will help you tend to him here, and unless your goal is to kill him then that is your only option."

Cynder sighed helplessly, glancing between Spyro and the rain outside, battling her instincts which urged her to grab Spyro and fly northward as fast as possible. But in the end she realized that the wolf had a point. Spyro would never last in those conditions, no matter how fast she was able to fly. Any more exposure to that freezing cold would be disastrous for him.

"I suggest you get some rest now," the alpha told her. "You can trust Feris to care for your friend. You will be no good to him exhausted anyways."

Though reluctant, Cynder couldn't ignore the weariness that was weighing heavily on her. Finally relenting, she shifted closer to the fire and to Spyro before curling up on the stone floor of the wolves' den and drifting off into an uneasy sleep, eager to set off for the mole village in the morning.

***.*.***

When the wolves were certain that Cynder had fallen asleep, the she-wolf leaned over toward the alpha, her posture bearing an air of tension.

"Is it a good idea to help them like this?" she whispered, glancing quickly at the two sleeping dragons.

"You are concerned?" the alpha replied evenly. "You do not think we have the responsibility to do what we can to help spare this dragon's life?"

He glanced toward Feris, who continued to treat the ailing purple dragon. He was currently applying a damp cloth to his forehead, trying to control his fever. While he didn't pause in his work, it was obvious he was listening in on the conversation, as were the rest of the wolves.

"I am worried about the implications," the she-wolf said. "How do we know this purple dragon is any different than the last one?"

"A dragon he defeated."

"Yes, alongside his predecessor's strongest servant. I am not claiming anything, but it looks suspiciously like he was trying to get rid his competition so as to take his place. And if that's the case, what does that mean for us?"

The alpha paused in consideration, glancing once more toward Spyro. The argument did make sense, but he wasn't about to make any hasty judgement.

"If we believe this dragoness's story, and I see no reason not to, then we all owe our lives to this dragon. Besides, look at him. Would someone with the goal of conquest do this to themselves to preserve our lives?"

The she-wolf paused hesitantly at this.

"No, we will help them, because it is what's right. And who knows? The dragons may even owe us a favour after helping to save their great hero." Then the wolf leader rose to his feet and moved around the fire until he was standing next to Feris. "How is he?"

"Stable enough for the time being, it seems," Feris replied without looking up. "I don't foresee any complications as long as we are careful."

"Good. Do what you can for him."

"Yes Alpha."

The alpha wolf then turned to gaze around at the rest of his pack. "As for the rest of us, it is late, and some rest would do us all good."

They all nodded in agreement, and there was the sound of cloth and fur against stone as they all settled in for what remained of the night. The alpha spared one last glance toward the two resting dragons before returning to his own seat.

_It will be interesting to see how this situation may develop in the future_, he thought to himself before closing his eyes and allowing his body to relax into sleep.

***.*.***

Cynder awoke with a start the next morning to the sound of someone shifting nearby. For a moment she didn't recognize her surroundings, and gripped by fear she jumped to her feet, spinning around as she tried to figure out what was happening.

"Good morning."

Cynder jolted at the sound of a voice coming from right behind her, and she whirled around with a challenging snarl, swinging her bladed tail up toward the intruder, her entire body rigid and ready for battle. She faltered when she recognized him.

"Easy now," Feris gulped nervously, his paws held up defensively as he eyed the glinting tip of Cynder's blade, which was levelled at his chest. "You're safe here."

Cynder slowly relaxed, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, and she allowed her tail to drop back to the ground.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I forgot where I was for a moment."

"It's understandable. You have been through quite the ordeal."

Cynder nodded absently, before suddenly growing anxious.

"Spyro?"

"The same," Feris grunted, pointing with a paw to where the purple dragon lay.

Cynder gave a heavy sigh of disappointment before glancing outside and seeing that the downpour hadn't let up like she had hoped.

"I guess we're not going anywhere today, either."

Feris shook his head. "I am afraid not."

Then Cynder glanced around, puzzled when she found that the other wolves were nowhere to be seen.

"Hunting," Feris told her, seeing her confusion. "Go on and rest. Recover your strength. We should have a meal before long, and you will feel better."

Anxious to get moving again but knowing that there was no choice, Cynder sighed heavily and shifted over closer to Spyro, lying down by his side facing the cave entrance to await the end of the storm.

The rest of the day proceeded slowly from that point. Though severely worried about delaying any longer, she knew that she had to stick to the alpha wolf's advice and allow the storm to die out before they could leave. When the rest of the pack returned with their catch she passed the time by asking occasional questions to the wolves, such as why they had been forced to move to the south, and why they didn't react defensively about her intruding on their den like she thought they would have. They were more than happy to spend the rest of the day sharing their stories, telling her that the wolves had left the northern continent simply because the growing number of dragons had meant that competition for land and food was getting too intense. Facing a more powerful race, the wolves had decided to simply relocate in favour of more private lands. At first they had been bitter because of this, but over time they had come to accept their new situation and accept that the dragons hadn't wilfully driven them away. Unlike the cheetahs who were content to live in such close proximity to the larger dragons, wolves preferred their space, and leaving had been their only option.

As to why they hadn't been angered by her intrusion on their den, they attributed that to surprise. After all, no dragons had been seen in that region for centuries, and what's more it had been two adolescents that had so suddenly appeared now. Plus, they understood that she hadn't known this region had been their pack's territory, and so they didn't hold that against her.

Cynder listened to their explanations with keen interest, coming to the conclusion that as a civilization the wolves were very similar to the cheetahs. Their garments were of the same style, though of more earthy colouring, their weapons comparable, and from the sounds of it their villages were constructed in a comparable fashion to the cheetahs. She wondered if perhaps there had been closer interactions between the two races in the past than the wolves were admitting to, but she didn't press the issue any more.

Finally, the following morning, the rain ceased, and not a moment too soon either since Spyro was growing weaker by the hour. Cynder had wasted no time lifting Spyro up onto her back and dashing outside after thanking the alpha wolf and the others for their help. However, once she was outside, she was surprised when Feris followed her carrying his spear.

"I will guide you to the mole village," he told her, leaning on the spear much the same as he had done before. "I know you would be faster if you flew, but it's a bit tricky to find."

"Thank you," Cynder said after only a momentary hesitation.

The wolf gave a small smile and a dismissive nod. "Let's be off, then. This way."

Several hours later, just as the sun began to set for the evening, Feris turned away from the stream and trudged into the thick forest. Cynder stayed right on his tail, taking great care to avoid the low hanging branches and thick bushes that might knock Spyro from her back. It was slow going at first, but eventually they came across a narrow path weaving between the trees, small for the wolf but about the right size, Cynder realized, for moles.

Only a few minutes later, Feris suddenly stopped. Puzzled, Cynder moved up beside him and gazed up at him sidelong.

"What is it?" she asked.

"The village is just ahead," Feris replied, pointing with his spear. "I will take my leave of you now and return to my pack."

Though slightly puzzled by the way the wolf seemed to be avoiding the village, Cynder nonetheless was grateful to hear that her destination was near. She smiled up at the wolf.

"Thank you. I don't know what I would have done without your help."

Feris shrugged dismissively. "Pay it no mind. Now, you should move on. There is probably not much time left."

Cynder felt a prickle of uneasiness at those words, and she glanced back toward Spyro, who was either asleep or unconscious with his head hanging limply off her shoulder, his breathing coming in ragged gasps.

"Right. Thanks again."

Then, without any further delay, Cynder took off running down the narrow trail, leaving Feris standing beneath the trees watching her depart. By the time she glanced back he had already slipped off into the trees and disappeared.

Just as he had promised the village came into sight ahead only a minute later, the lights of candles and torches shining through the trees in the fading light of the evening. Soon the trees fell away and the trail she was following joined with a larger dirt road leading to the village's main wooden gates. Beyond the low wood wall she could see small, precisely crafted huts of stone and wood, some bearing roofs of wooden slats and others of thatching. It was extremely simplistic in construction compared to Warfang, but looked incredibly inviting nonetheless. The gates stood open as if welcoming any weary travellers in, and Cynder didn't hesitate to accept the invitation. She sprinted for the village, her paws thudding heavily on the dirt roadway.

"Help!" she called as she neared the wall. "Help me, please! Somebody!"

At the sound of her call several small moles appeared through the gate. They all stopped dead at the sight of her, their beady eyes almost bugging out of their skulls in surprise. Clearly, just like the wolves, it had been a long time since they had seen dragons, but they showed no signs of fear when Cynder ran up to them, panting breathlessly. As soon as she was through the gate her weary legs gave out and she collapsed onto the ground with a heavy groan.

"My goodness!" a mole female gasped. "Are you alright?"

"Please, help him," Cynder panted feebly. "Please..."

"We need to get them both to the infirmary," another mole declared in an authoritative voice. "Quickly!"

Four moles rushed forward immediately and lifted the limp Spyro from Cynder's back, quickly carrying him in the direction of a larger round structure toward the village's centre with a wide arched doorway at the top of a set of wooden stairs, the warm glow of torchlight spilling out into the street from within. Two other moles moved to Cynder's sides and helped her to her feet.

"Come on, now, miss," the mole on her right said gently. "Everything's going to be fine."

Cynder nearly collapsed again from sheer relief at those words, wanting so desperately to believe them even though she knew Spyro wasn't out of danger yet. It was all she could do to gasp, "Thank you," over and over again as the two moles helped her toward the infirmary. Once they were inside they guided Cynder through the main hall and into a smaller side room, where attendants were already pushing a mole-sized cot out of the way and spreading out blankets in the centre of the floor for their new patient. Through a connecting doorway Cynder could see that Spyro had already been brought into the adjacent room and now an army of moles were rushing about to tend to him. The sight filled her with hope. Then her vision was obstructed by the round furry body of a mole as she was made to lie down on the soft blankets.

"Just try and rest," a soothing female voice instructed her. "You're both safe now. Just rest, and everything will be fine."

Cynder heaved a contented sigh as the warmth of the blankets surrounded her, taking away her worries and fears. She had done it. She had gotten Spyro to the village, and now his chances had improved drastically. If there was any creature she would trust Spyro's life to other than a dragon, it was the moles.

Within moments her weariness had overtaken her, and before she knew it Cynder had fallen into a deep and relaxed slumber, feeling at peace for the first time in days.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, I hope that's enough to tide you over for a little while. Don't know how long the next update will take, but I'm aiming for the end of the weekend, so we'll see how it turns out.<strong>

**If you have any comments or feedback, don't hesitate to let me know. I'm hoping that this story is entertaining, but any kind of constructive feedback would be appreciated just so I know how I'm doing. :)**

**Until next time...**


	4. Chapter 3

**Alright, as promised, end-of-weekend update. Bit shorter this time, but hey, I can't make 10,000 word chapters all the time! X)**_  
><em>

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 3:<span>_

The sun had hardly poked over the eastern horizon when Sparx thought he felt something nudge him on his side. Sluggishly he waved a tiny hand and grumbled something inaudible before turning his head away, a loud snore emanating from his open mouth.

"Sparx," came a sudden, grumpy voice.

Dismissing the voice as the remnants of a dream, Sparx didn't stir, but then the voice came again, more forcibly.

"Sparx, wake up!"

"Gah!" Sparx exclaimed, jolting upright, his wide eyes darting this way and that in a panic. "Whawhohuhwassitwhat's going on?"

"Sparx," came the voice again from very nearby, and Sparx turned his head to look over his shoulder. He gave a startled cry when he found himself eye to eye with Hunter, who wore a deeply begrudging expression.

"Hunter!" he gasped, floating into the air from his position on the cheetah's shoulder, where he had spent the night. "You scared me, man! What's the big idea?"

Hunter gave a tired groan and raised himself to a seated position on his cot, rubbing his eyes with the back of one paw.

"Your snoring was beginning to become unbearable," he grumbled, and Sparx couldn't help but smirk in amusement at the feline's sour mood. Clearly, despite his usually calm and collected demeanour, the cheetah was not a morning person.

"Sorry," the dragonfly said sheepishly. "Didn't even realize I snored. Spyro's never complained about it."

"Then the young dragon must be a very sound sleeper, because you could wake half my village with the sound you were making."

"Ouch. And what's got your tail all in a bunch this morning?"

Hunter opened one eye and fixed the golden dragonfly with a glare, and suddenly feeling anxious under his hard gaze Sparx turned his head away and instead pretended to examine the room he found himself in. It wasn't much: four walls made of heavy stone and a floor and ceiling of long wooden planks, with nothing but a cot against one wall under the small open window and a low table sitting adjacent to it. Hunter's traveling cloak and belt were draped over the foot of the cot, while his bow and quiver of arrows were set against the wall leaning against the table. The guardians had provided Hunter with the room to use as temporary quarters for the duration of his stay in the city, and most of the other members of his tribe that had followed Prowlus to the city were likewise bunked in similar rooms of the same building, which seemed to serve as overflow housing for moles or any other visiting creature, with the exception of dragons of course, who had their own more dragon-sized rooms elsewhere in the city. Sparx had been spending the night here with the cheetah for the past few nights after growing too lonely in the room that had been provided near the temple for him and Spyro.

"You're right," Hunter grunted at length. "Forgive me. I just haven't been sleeping well these past few nights."

Sparx was just about to make an indignant comment, asking if that was a crack about his snoring, but Hunter preempted him with an explanation.

"It's all the patrols, I think. It troubles me that they have been turning up nothing."

Sparx frowned, feeling a familiar pang of loneliness and worry rising within his gut. He looked away.

"I guess it's still too soon," he muttered.

"Perhaps," Hunter nodded. "After all, it took three years to locate Spyro last time. But that was during the chaos of war, and with only me searching. I suppose I had been hoping it would be different this time."

Sparx nodded absently, deep in thought. It had been over a week since the last time he had seen his brother, and he was really starting to worry. It was almost torture, not knowing where Spyro was and whether or not he was alright. Much to his own surprise, there were times that he even wondered if Cynder was unharmed. Where could those two be, now, he wondered? A part of him was curious if this was how the guardians had felt when the three of them had disappeared three years before.

"But we mustn't give up so quickly," Hunter declared suddenly, rising to his feet as he stretched out his arms and back. "With the danger passed it should only be a matter of time. After all, if anyone is capable of looking after himself, it's Spyro."

Sparx nodded silently, wanting desperately to believe his feline friend but finding that somewhere inside himself he still held doubts. Trying to chase the troubling thoughts away, Sparx floated over to the small square window and poked his head outside, surveying the city in the early morning light. Already he could see many moles in the streets, meandering slowly and lazily amongst the buildings, clearly not in a rush to be anywhere just yet. It was how things had been after the celebrations had ended, a few days before. Nobody seemed to want to do anything other than enjoy their newfound peace. The city had come to a complete standstill, but nobody seemed to care. Not yet, at least.

"I think I'll head over to the great hall," Hunter said from behind Sparx, and the dragonfly turned around to see that the cheetah had already donned his belt and cloak, though he left his bow and quiver where they lay. "You're welcome to join me if you would like."

Sparx paused indecisively for only a moment before shrugging and nodding.

"Alright. It's not like I have anything else to be doing."

"Indeed," Hunter said, nodding his agreement, then chuckled. "Things certainly have quieted down a lot. I hardly know what to do with myself anymore."

"Ah, don't worry so much about it," Sparx said, waving a hand dismissively. "I never know what to do with myself."

Hunter laughed. "It shows."

"You bet it does," Sparx said proudly. "So, are we going? I don't know about you but I'm _starved_!"

He could hear the cheetah chuckling quietly to himself as he hovered through the door Hunter held open for him. Then, with his usual soundless steps, Hunter followed him down the narrow hallways. Soon Sparx had passed down the stairs and through the arched main doorway of the building.

"Oh, yeah," he groaned contentedly as he took a long stretch, feeling the rays of the early morning sun warming his body. After the heavy rain they had experienced only a few days ago the sunshine felt truly invigorating. "Now this I can get used to. No psycho dragons chasing me around, no nasty grublins, no crazy apes or bat-thingys. It's heaven!"

"You aren't going to miss the excitement?" Hunter smirked.

"A-nooo," Sparx shook his head firmly. "Buddy, some guys are made for excitement. Spyro seems to be made for excitement, as much as I try to talk him out of it. But not yours truly, okay?"

"I'll take your word for it."

"You do that."

With nothing more said between them, the unusual pair made their way casually through the winding cobblestone streets of the enormous city, headed for Warfang's highest level which housed the temple, the expansive central courtyards and gardens, and of course the great hall. Because of its size, Warfang had many kitchens and dining halls spread out amongst its many levels and sections, but the great hall got its name because it was by far the largest and most used. Sparx had been absolutely dumbstruck the first time he had been inside it. The enormous space had been packed to capacity with thousands of moles along with many cheetahs and dragons, engaging in a magnificent feast in celebration of theirs and Spyro's victory. Thankfully, when Sparx and Hunter arrived that morning, the place was significantly less busy.

Sparx spent a short moment to admire the expansive hall, for even after seeing it many times over the past few days he was still awed by the scale of it. Growing up in the swamp, the largest room he had ever been inside was the dragonfly village's gathering hall, which was little more than a hollowed-out mushroom cap in a large tree, easily big enough to fit all the members of the village but still small by any other standard. But the great hall could have contained the entire _village_ with space to spare. Several long tables were set in rows along the length of the hall, broken only at the hall's centre to allow easier access for the many mole servers who scurried quickly about delivering meals or fetching used dishes. Along either side of each table were alternating sections of either benches or large cushions, with sections of varying size arrayed all about the hall to allow dragons and other creatures to sit in groups with their own kind or mingle amongst each other. However now there were only a few patrons within the hall, mostly of the mole variety with the only exception being the three enormous dragons huddled together at the head of the hall.

"It appears the guardians have beaten us here," Hunter commented.

"As always," Sparx added. "Seriously, do those guys ever sleep?"

Hunter merely shrugged, and the two of them advanced down the centre of the hall toward the dragons, Hunter occasionally having to dodge around a mole server heading the other way between tables. Whenever he was inside the hall, Sparx was glad that he could fly. It made navigating in congested areas such as this so much easier!

"Ah, Hunter!" Cyril called when he noticed the pair approaching. "And young Sparx too, I see."

"A little early for you both to be up, isn't it?" Terrador asked them, turning slightly to look at the two newcomers over his shoulder. "Even for you, Hunter."

"Oh, you know," Sparx said lazily. "Stuff to do, places to be..."

"Indeed," Hunter said with an amused twinkle in his eye. He then looked back over at the guardians again, noting their bright expressions despite the early hour. "And you all seem to be in a good mood this morning."

"Indeed we are!" Volteer piped up cheerfully. "We were just in the process of discussing an entirely unexpected but delightfully heartening development!"

"I'm guessing that means good news?" Sparx said slowly.

"What's happened?" Hunter asked quickly.

"We have received news of a highly encouraging nature," Terrador responded.

Sparx perked up immediately, and beside him he noticed that Hunter also leaned forward expectantly.

"The scouts?" he guessed. "Have they found something?"

Terrador hesitated for just a split second before nodding. "Yes..."

Sparx's entire face lit up with anticipation, and he was just about to let out a joyful exclamation when Terrador quickly held up a large paw, silencing him.

"...and no," he added apologetically, knowing instinctively what Sparx had been thinking. "They have found something, but not to do with Spyro."

"Oh," Sparx said in a hollow tone of voice, his arms and antennae drooping with severe disappointment.

"I'm sorry Sparx," Terrador said gently. "We're trying to find your brother."

"The searches that Prowlus organized haven't found anything either?" Hunter asked.

The guardians shook their heads. Sparx had been surprised when Chief Prowlus had offered to send some of his cheetah warriors out to assist in the searches for Spyro and Cynder, since up to that point he had displayed nothing but animosity toward the two young dragons. However, much like Hunter's own searches around the volcano and those of the dragons that the guardians had sent out from the city, they had turned up nothing yet.

"Then what'd the good news?" Hunter asked a moment later, puzzled.

"Well, as you both have no doubt noticed during these past few days in the city, there are worryingly few dragons living within our city now."

To reinforce his point he gestured with an open paw at the rest of the hall, where besides the guardians the only form of creature present was moles.

"The war has had a heavy toll on our kind, especially here in our largest city," the large earth dragon continued with a sigh. "I don't mean to belittle the efforts and sacrifices of our allies, but it has always been clear that we dragons were the Dark Master's primary target, and as such have bore the brunt of the losses in this war."

"And this is good news?" Sparx asked, beginning to feel depressed by the guardian's hard words.

"We're getting to that," Terrador told him firmly.

"Until recently, we believed that we here in the city were all that remained of our race," Cyril spoke up, taking over for the earth dragon. "After all, Malefor had been focusing the bulk of his attacks here against Warfang for quite some time and all dragons were called upon to muster here in the defence of our last stronghold." His expression suddenly took on a more bitter look. "However, it appears as though not all our brethren heeded the call."

Hunter's eyes widened slightly with surprise. "Really? I find that hard to believe."

"Indeed, I dismissed the claim as utterly ridiculous at first," Cyril huffed frostily. "But as it turns out, there are those among our kind who are somewhat lacking in their sense of duty."

"Now, now, Cyril," Terrador said evenly. "There's no need to be so harsh."

"I beg to differ," the ice dragon snorted. "It is a shameful mark against the honour of our kind!"

"But surely you cannot blame them for placing priority on the defence of their own homes," Volteer protested. "They had a responsibility to protect and defend their own just as we here did."

"Whoa, whoa, hold up!" Sparx cut in forcibly when the rapid conversation became too much for him to follow. His head was almost spinning with questions. "Can someone _please_ tell me what I'm missing here? What are we talking about?"

"There are still dragons outside of Warfang," Hunter replied simply.

"What?" Sparx exclaimed, his eyes bugging out in disbelief. "Really?"

"Indeed," Cyril grunted, still wearing a deeply begrudging expression.

"Our last wave of scouts has been able to re-establish contact with three dragon settlements," Terrador announced, his tone of voice much more cheerful than that of the ice guardian. "And according to their reports, they have escaped the war in surprisingly sound condition."

"So, what, there are more dragon cities out there?" Sparx said, somewhat sceptically. "And why haven't we heard about this before?"

"Because until recently they had secluded themselves entirely from the outside world. According to the scouts, two of these villages have been constructed underground, apparently starting out as refugee shelters and growing from there. The third is a moderately-sized city on the surface and lies tucked away in an isolated corner between the swamp and the sea, far to the east from here, and it is extremely difficult to reach by land. Apparently it simply wasn't worth the effort of conquering, at least while Warfang still stood."

"Oh, well, isn't that nice," Sparx grunted. "And where were they while we were fighting off Malefor's entire army down here?"

"My sentiments exactly," Cyril nodded.

Terrador gave a large sigh. "I do not think we can blame them for wanting to preserve the security of their homes. These cities went unnoticed by Malefor for many years, surviving by secrecy and seclusion alone. They most likely felt that if they revealed themselves to assist us in a battle we had little hope of winning they would be dooming their homes and families to the same fate."

"Unforgivable, I say," Cyril said testily. "A dragon has his honour to consider. We do not simply hide from danger. Not when the future of our race and our world is at stake."

"Sure, but aren't you at least glad that there are more dragons still alive?" Sparx asked in confusion. "I mean, yeah, it would've been really nice to have their help every once in a while, but we're still alive and obviously so are they."

"I couldn't agree more," Volteer nodded brightly. "Whether or not their participation and assistance in those final battles would have made any perceivable difference is no longer of any relevance or importance. This is nothing short of an amazing, miraculous discovery!"

"Yes, yes, Volteer, we're all thrilled," Cyril sighed, rolling his eyes. "And I admit, while I think their sense of honour needs some adjustment, things seem to have turned out for the better."

"So what happens from here?" Hunter asked.

"For the time being we'll continue reopening lines of communication between our four cities, as well as continue searching for other hidden settlements," Terrador replied. "While eventually we hope to be able to bring many of these dragons back here to Warfang, with things still so uncertain out in the world it would be unwise to rush into any hasty courses of action. We need to be absolutely certain all danger has passed before letting our guard down."

"So, basically, nothing," Sparx offered.

Terrador gave a half-smile. "I suppose it can be put that way."

"Okay then," Sparx said, clapping his hands together. "Glad to know we've got a direction. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think my direction is that way." He jerked a thumb over at a large doorway at the back of the hall, thought which a steady stream of mole servers passed in and out. "Hopefully, somewhere in that kitchen is a breakfast with my name on it. Nice talking to ya."

With that, he turned sharply in the air and zipped off for the kitchen, leaving the three guardians and Hunter looking after him shaking their heads in amusement.

"I don't know about the rest of you," Cyril commented, "but I sincerely hope Spyro returns soon, if only to be there to offer some restraint on behalf of that little dragonfly."

"Indeed," Terrador nodded. "Otherwise our newfound peace may be short lived."

***.*.***

The sound of paws thudding against the hard stone roadway was all that could be heard echoing between the low heavy walls of the underground city, pounding out a fast and unsteady rhythm as a young male dragon dashed around sharp corners and down dim alleyways at almost breakneck speeds. To anyone else that might have been in the area the dragon would have appeared to be nothing more than a pale blur as he ran frantically along.

_Come on,_ the dragon thought in growing desperation, glancing this way and that as he ran, his eyes taking in every recess and nook amongst the walls. _There has to be a place to hide _somewhere_ around here!_

A shadow suddenly appeared around a corner ahead, and the young dragon suppressed a cry of surprise and instead darted blindly around a corner on his right, but almost immediately he slid to a startled halt.

He had run into a dead end. Nothing but smooth stone walls surrounded him on the sides and in front of him. What was worse, the alleyway was too narrow to spread his wings and take off. He was trapped!

He whirled around to face the opening of the alley when he heard soft footsteps approaching from the street, drawing slowly nearer with each passing second. The dragon realized then that he had no chance of escaping the alley without being seen. With nowhere left to go, he backed up until he was pressed hard against the back corner of the alley, trying to get as far into the shadows as possible and silently cursing his far too visible white scales. He cringed as the shadow reappeared just beyond the entrance of the alley, the approaching figure almost at the corner.

In a final act of desperation, the young dragon closed his eyes and focused with all his might, but at that exact same moment he heard a triumphant cry from ahead of him.

"Aha!" came the cry. "I gotcha no—"

The white dragon opened his eyes slowly when the speaker cut themselves short. There, standing in the alley's only exit and blocking the opening, was a young earth dragon. He was slightly larger than the white dragon, with scales of a deep earthy green and a dark brown chest and wings. His forest-green eyes were staring hard and suspiciously into the alley, a mildly puzzled look on his expression.

"Flash?" the earth dragon said hesitantly, taking a slow step forward into the alley.

The pale white dragon, Flash, held his breath nervously and forced himself to remain perfectly still, trying to maintain his hard focus so that his power didn't waver. The earth dragon was staring straight at him, but it seemed as if he was unable to see the smaller dragon in the alley, and as long as Flash had anything to say about it things were going to stay that way. However, to his dismay, the other dragon began stalking slowly forward, his eyes searching the narrow alley intently.

"I know you went down here," the dragon declared firmly. "So you might as well give up and stop hiding."

Still Flash didn't make a sound, his body absolutely still. But he was beginning to realize with a dismayed feeling that it was pointless; the earth dragon wasn't going to leave. He was now halfway down the alley, his gaze locked on the back corner in the sheer walls. He finally stopped just a couple of feet away from the other dragon, who he still seemed unable to see, even though his eyes passed regularly right over the spot where Flash stood. Then Flash noticed the earth dragon frown slightly, and he clenched his forepaws slowly against the ground, a look of deep concentration on his face. Flash felt a sinking sensation in his gut, realizing what the earth dragon was doing. A moment later a small grin formed on the dragon's muzzle, and his gaze locked firmly on the place where Flash stood.

"Knew it," he declared triumphantly. "Got you."

"Hey!" Flash exclaimed indignantly, finally releasing his power. The earth dragon's grin grew wider as the air in front of him seemed to shimmer, then like a ghost materializing out of nothing the younger dragon's creamy-white body gradually became visible once more. "That's cheating, Clay!"

"You're calling me a cheater?" the earth dragon laughed. "You used your power first!"

Flash had no answer to this, and in the end he had to settle for a dark frown that only served to amuse the larger dragon further.

"Claymore!" came a sudden call from outside the alley, and both young dragons looked toward the source just as a dark blue ice dragon of their age appeared around the corner. He was a friend of Claymore's named Kryos. "You got him?"

"Got him," Claymore nodded with his ever-present grin.

"About time!" another voice called out just as a bright red fire dragoness named Raenna appeared behind the ice dragon, followed closely by a slightly younger earth dragoness. "I was getting exhausted!"

"Gotta hand it to you, Flashy," Kryos snickered. "You sure know how to run."

"And cheat, of course," the earth dragoness, whose name was Gemma, giggled.

Flash scowled at the others. "It's such a stupid rule," he said defensively. "I don't get why we can't use our powers."

"Easy for you to say," Kryos snorted. "Not all of us can make ourselves invisible whenever we want." He gestured with his wing at himself and the Raenna. "And our powers don't do us any good at all."

"Okay, okay," Claymore chuckled, spreading his wings out to catch everyone's attention. "Doesn't matter anyway. The round's over."

"So what now?" the Raenna asked. "Is Flash it?"

"We're going again?" Kryos said incredulously. "We've been playing this game for hours!"

"Well what else are we going to do?" the Gemma retorted. "The adults are all still busy at that stupid 'village summons' thing. And they said not to go anywhere until they're done."

"Oh, fine," the ice dragon grumbled. "I can't believe they won't let us outside, though. I mean, one outsider shows up and all of a sudden they seal us all inside?"

The word outsider seemed to have an immediate effect on the other dragons. They all exchanged uneasy glances, a tense silence falling over them. It was no secret that, for the dragons of the village, outsiders were viewed warily to say the least ever since they had been forced underground years ago to escape the war.

"Let's just not talk about it," Raenna said finally, shifting her forepaws uncomfortably. "So are we doing another round?"

"Flash?" Claymore said, turning toward the white dragon.

Flash heaved a sigh and looked away, conflicted. He knew, just as the others did, that until the village's elders said otherwise there was nothing else they _could_ do, but he had been growing tired of the game for some time now, and the prospect of being the first seeker in this round didn't appeal to him in the slightest.

"I don't think so," he said at length.

"What?" Gemma exclaimed. "Oh, come on. Why not?"

"Because I'm getting sick of this game," Flash shot back. "I mean, it's just the same thing over and over again. It's boring."

"You sure it's not just because you're mad about not being able to use powers?" Kryos teased.

"A bit," Flash replied, scowling at the smug blue dragon.

"Come on, don't be a sore sport," Raenna groaned. "You won this round, so why make a big deal out of this?"

"Because I think it's a stupid rule! What's the point of having powers if we never use them?"

"What do you think we do during training?" Kryos snorted.

"That's only once a week."

"At least they let us train at all after you almost brought the whole place down two weeks ago."

"What?" Flash said, jerking up in surprise.

"You know what," Gemma smirked. "Almost taking out that support column with your light beam."

"That was an accident," Flash said defensively.

"And you wonder why they don't let us train more often," Kryos said, just barely loud enough for Flash to hear. The white dragon's scowl deepened.

"So are we playing again or not?" Raenna cut in, sounding exasperated.

"No!" Flash snapped.

"Typical," Kryos grunted, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. He turned his gaze on Raenna and Gemma. "Come on, let's go find something else to do. See you, Claymore."

The earth dragon said nothing, merely lifted a wing in farewell as his friends disappeared around the corner of the alley. For just a moment Flash felt a pang of guilt when he saw the other dragon's expression, but he still felt too bitter toward the other young dragons for it to last.

"So what are we going to do now?" he spoke up a moment later.

Claymore gave a small shrug. "Whatever, I guess. We might as well head back to the village centre. Maybe the adults are almost done."

Flash gave a nod of agreement before following the other dragon out of the alley. While Claymore's three friends had turned right at the road, Claymore and Flash instead turned left, heading deeper into the village. For some time they walked in silence, the streets appearing strangely deserted around them. Then, finally, a couple of minutes later Claymore spoke up in a tired tone of voice.

"Why do you always do that?" he said.

"Do what?" Flash asked him, glancing up at him with his brow arched in confusion.

"You know what," Claymore sighed. "Get so defensive."

The scowl returned momentarily to Flash's expression.

"Why do you even have to ask?" he grumbled. "You see the way they talk to me."

"No, actually, I don't," Claymore retorted, though his tone was still patient. "I mean, sure, they tease you, but it's not just you. That's just the way they are. Come on, you've seen the jokes they've pulled on me before."

"That's different," Flash protested. "That's all just for fun. But it's not the same with me. They treat me like I'm..." he trailed off, drawing to a slow halt in the street, causing the larger earth dragon to look back at him with a puzzled expression. "...different."

He looked down at himself when he said the word, feeling slightly bitter but unable to feel angry about it. After all, it was true.

He had only truly begun to notice it a few years ago, the way that dragons seemed to look at him differently than all the others. Within the village it was mostly earth dragons that lived there, with a few fire and ice dragons and very few electricity dragons. But within the dominant palette of greens and browns his creamy-white scales stood out glaringly against all else. Add to that his chest scales and wings, which would shift colours depending on the current lighting, and he looked even stranger compared to the rest. They weren't overly bright, but the way they would shift almost spontaneously from shades of dull red to deep blues and pale greens often made him feel like some kind of oddity, sometimes even a freak.

Claymore let out a low sigh when he noticed the younger dragon's expression and turned around to face him.

"Listen, Flash, I get it," he said gently. "I know it's not easy, being the only one around here with light for an element. But that's no reason to let people get to you the way you do. That just makes them think you're abrasive and stubborn, which I know you're not."

Flash was surprised by the sudden tenderness in the other dragon's voice, but then he let out a sigh and looked away, all his anger and bitterness vanishing.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "I just don't see why you always make me come along when your friends want to hang out with you, that's all. I feel like it'd be easier if I could just be left alone."

"Oh, come on, you don't think I'm going to let my baby brother mope around on his own all day, do you?" Claymore laughed.

Flash looked up and immediately frowned indignantly. "I'm not a baby!"

But his retort only caused the earth dragon to laugh again. "You'll always be the baby of this family, Flash ol' buddy."

"Oh yeah?" Flash demanded challengingly. "I'll show you!"

Claymore's eyes widened when Flash suddenly disappeared from sight ahead of him. The sound of the younger dragon's paws smacking against the stone roadway was the only warning he got before Flash tackled him in the side, knocking him over.

"Aha!" Flash exclaimed triumphantly, grinning broadly as he allowed the light around his body to resume its natural path, thereby making himself visible again. "Gotcha!"

"I don't think so!" Claymore laughed, and Flash let out a cry of surprise as his older brother suddenly wrapped one foreleg around his neck in a headlock and pulled him down onto the ground.

"Ow!" Flash exclaimed, struggling with all his strength but laughing the whole time. "Claymore, no fair! You're bigger!"

"You got that right, little brother!" the earth dragon declared proudly. "And you better not forget it!"

The two young dragons both laughed as they wrestled in the middle of the roadway, Flash fighting as hard as he possibly could to get an upper hand on his stronger brother but soon realizing the futility of it; his brother had him thoroughly pinned under his weight in only a few moments, and once an earth dragon got settled in position there was nothing that could move him.

"Ow, ow, okay, you win," Flash gasped as Claymore stood over him, pinning one foreleg behind his back while pushing the side of his head into the dirt. "I give up! Let me go, Clay."

"Oh, alright," Claymore relented with an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose if I have to..."

He pulled his paws away and Flash scrambled to his feet, brushing dirt off his chest and face. He frowned when he noticed just how much his white scales showed the dirt while it was hardly noticeable on his brother's far more natural colouring.

"You're such a jerk brother," Flash grumbled, though he was still grinning.

"You know it," Claymore replied evenly. Then he motioned with his head toward the centre of the village. "Come on, we're almost there. If we're lucky, maybe the elders are ready to let us outside again."

"I doubt it," Flash grunted, but nonetheless he followed right behind his brother as Claymore set off down the streets once more.

It wasn't too much longer before they started to notice signs of life around them. Once or twice they crossed paths with a dragon wandering the streets, apparently having become bored of the village gathering in the central courtyard and leaving on their own. However, as the two young dragons approached the centre of the village things changed drastically. Once the central courtyard came into view, the largest open space in the underground city, they found that it was packed absolutely to capacity with adult dragons. Their attention was all fixed on a raised stone pedestal that served as a platform for the village elders whenever they had an announcement to make to the village. However, it seemed now as if what had started as an announcement had turned into a full-on debate.

"I still say we can't trust them!" a loud voice called out from somewhere out of sight farther into the courtyard. "We have absolutely no proof that we can believe what they're telling us!"

"But what reason would a dragon have for lying about this?" another voice answered, female this time. "I'm no more eager than anyone to abandon the safety of this city, but there's no reason we can't send out messengers or something to test these claims."

"And what happens when they get out there and find a war still raging at full strength?" another doubtful voice retorted.

"Why would a messenger from Warfang come here to tell us there was no war any more if there still was?" the same female voice said challengingly.

"Warfang?" Flash muttered in surprise, turning to look up at his brother. It was the first time he had heard the great dragon city's name mentioned in a long time. Claymore merely shrugged.

"Now everyone, please, settle," a loud and commanding voice rang out suddenly, and when he craned his neck up Flash could see that it had come from the pedestal at the head of the courtyard, upon which a large earth dragon was standing: the village's chief elder. "Now, as of this moment the elders and I are of the opinion that there is no need for hasty reactions to this news. Until proof can be established that the war is indeed over we shall remain here, safe and hidden."

A general murmur of agreement rose from the crowd of dragons, and Flash could see many of them exchanging glances and approving nods.

_No surprise,_ he snorted inwardly. The dragons of the village had never been of a risk-taking type. After years of hiding from the war, it was obvious that they would rather remain sequestered underground than explore the greater outside world.

"And what about the purple dragon?" a voice called out suddenly.

All suddenly went silent within the courtyard, and Flash had likewise gone still. His eyes had widened considerably with surprise, and when he looked up at Claymore he could see that his brother's reaction was similar. Noticing his younger brother looking at him, Claymore turned to meet his gaze.

"A purple dragon?" Flash repeated, his voice nothing more than a shocked whisper. "Like the prophecy?"

"I don't know," Claymore replied, shaking his head helplessly.

"Those claims are unsubstantiated," the elder dragon declared a moment later.

That was obviously not the answer the gathered dragons had been expecting, because as soon as the words were past the elder's jaws the courtyard erupted with loud murmuring. It took several tries to get them calmed down enough so that the elder could speak again.

"Please, quiet!" he called forcibly. "Settle!"

"How do you know it's not true?" a dragon in the crowd called out challengingly.

"We don't," the elder responded evenly. "But there is nothing to support the claim."

"But the messenger from Warfang said that a purple dragon arrived at the city almost two weeks ago! He said he defeated the Dark Master!"

"And if that is indeed the case, then it is wonderful news," the elder said. "However, unless this purple dragon decides to show himself here in our village in the foreseeable future, we elders do not feel there is any reason to believe these claims."

More murmuring, but nowhere near as loud as before.

"And how do we know it's even still safe here?" another voice called out. "What about the earthquake?"

All the dragons in the courtyard waited expectantly, and in the pause Flash thought back to just over a week before, when the entire cavern had been rocked by the largest earthquake anyone could remember. At the time he had been certain that the entire cavern was going to come down on top of the village, but only a short while after it started the shaking and lurching had passed, leaving everything undisturbed. However, the event had served to seriously reinforce doubts about the safety of the world around them.

"It has been determined that the cavern is indeed sound," the elder replied in a calm tone. "There is no danger of a collapse, and no foreseeable threat of another such event."

"You're certain?"

The large earth dragon nodded. "We are safe for the time being. Now, unless there are any more questions, I think that we can call this gathering to a close."

He waited for a moment for anyone to speak up, but when no one did the elder gave a sharp nod and turned to descend from the pedestal. Gradually the crowd began to disperse, and Claymore and Flash quickly moved off the road so that they wouldn't be caught up in the flow of large bodies.

"What do you think it all means?" Flash asked his brother in a low tone. "A messenger from Warfang? A purple dragon?"

Once more, Claymore only offered a shrug. "I have no idea, Flash."

He paused for a long moment, glancing toward the southern edge of the village, where in the distance he could just make out the glow of the midday sun streaming through one of the few exits from the cavern in which their village was sheltered, and as he followed his brother's gaze Flash was gripped by a strange curiosity, wondering if it was true and the world outside had indeed changed, the war finally over.

"I have no idea."


	5. Chapter 4

**Well, this chapter took a bit longer to write than I thought it was going to. I wasn't expecting it to get this long, but I didn't feel like there was anywhere good to break it into two chapters, so I guess it's staying this way.**

**Anyway, here it is.**_  
><em>

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 4:<span>_

_When Spyro opened his eyes, he was alone._

_Slowly, groggily, he lifted his head from its resting place between his paws on the rough stone ground and looked around, a strange feeling of disorientation and confusion settling over him when he realized that he didn't recognize any of his surroundings. Had he ever seen this place before?_

_Stretched out around him in all directions was nothing but a barren, rocky wasteland, with barely a sign of life except for the dried out, skeletal-looking remains of the occasional tree or bush, now nothing more than spiky towers of petrified wood. There was a stream off to his left, but the water within looked murky and polluted, most likely unsafe for drinking. In the distance, beyond swirling dust clouds he could see the hellish orange-red glow of lava flows and active volcanoes. Aside from the low howl of the wind, there wasn't a sound anywhere._

What is this place? _he wondered anxiously, rising to his feet as fear rapidly grew in his chest. _Where am I?

_Suddenly, for no reason that he could detect, he felt a terrible chill run through him. He shuddered violently and cringed, closing his eyes tight and gritting his teeth as a sudden gust of wind blew across the wasted plains, kicking up a thick cloud of dust that lashed against his scales. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the wind vanished. Slowly, Spyro opened his eyes._

_He immediately went rigid, terror constricting his throat when he saw what was before him. While his eyes had been closed a figure had appeared in front of him, somehow approaching without making a single sound. He was immediately recognizable, and there mere sight of him filled Spyro with unspeakable dread._

"_Malefor," he gasped weakly, drawing back in fear._

_A dark grin spread across the much larger purple dragon's hideous features, and Spyro immediately cringed at the sight. A low, cold laugh rumbled from deep in his chest, like a terrible echo from the past come back to haunt him._

"_What do you think?" Malefor asked him in his distorted, mocking tone. He spread his wings out to indicate their surroundings._

"_What...what is this?" Spyro asked hesitantly, never taking his eyes off the other dragon. "H-how are you here?"_

"_We are connected, you and I, Spyro," Malefor replied, his grin growing larger. "You can never escape me."_

"_No," Spyro gasped, shrinking back with mounting fear and shaking his head slowly. "I don't believe that..."_

"_And as for this," Malefor continued, apparently not hearing him. "Do you not recognize it?"_

_Spyro faltered, for a moment not understanding what had been said, but then his confusion mounted as the twisted dragon's words sank in._

"_What do you mean?" he asked haltingly, glancing around quickly. "I've never seen this place before..."_

"_Hmm. I'm not surprised," Malefor grunted. "This is what each of our predecessors tried to accomplish, and what I would have accomplished if not for you."_

"_You mean...this is the end of the world?"_

_Malefor gave a nod. "Not brought to completion, but yes. This is what you were meant to bring about, before you turned your back on your own nature..."_

"_No!" Spyro cried forcefully. "I told you before, I don't believe you! It's not true!"_

"_Oh, but it is. Remember what I told you, Spyro. You and I are not the first of our kind. The legacy of the purple dragon stretches back many millennia, and our mission has always been the same. Never completed, but always unchanged."_

"_No!"_

"_Why do you continue to deny the truth?" Malefor asked him calmly. "Are you telling me that in your entire life, you have never had the feeling that you were meant for greater things? Even when you were young, before you knew what you were, you never had a nagging sense that you weren't fulfilling some greater design for your life?"_

_Spyro faltered, for as much as he wanted to deny it, to do so would be a lie. He could vaguely remember, years ago in the swamp, how he would spend the occasional night lying awake with a deep-seeded unease plaguing him. Something hadn't been right._

"_And even now, after saving the world from destruction, a lingering doubt still remains. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise, you wonder if I was in fact right."_

"_No!" Spyro shouted again. "You don't know anything about me!"_

"_Wrong, Spyro," Malefor laughed. "It is you who knows nothing. All your life, you've listened to what others have told you to be. First your precious dragonfly parents, then Ignitus, all the while denying what you should have instinctually known all along."_

_The mere mention of Ignitus's name was enough to cause Spyro to freeze, a terrible numbness sweeping over his body as despair filled his soul, but also a slowly burning anger._

"_Admit it, Spyro. Your life is a lie. Your task in life, just as mine was, is to destroy this world."_

"_No!" Spyro shouted furiously, and a beam of convexity burst from his jaws headed right for Malefor. However, Malefor countered with his own more powerful beam. Both beams met in an explosive discharge, sending up a massive blast of energy that momentarily obscured everything from view. When the noise and smoke faded away Spyro saw Malefor still standing before him, laughing coldly._

"_You are that desperate to fight the truth?" he large dragon said mockingly. "So be it! Then you will die in denial!"_

_With a savage roar Malefor launched his own attack, the blazing beam of convexity tearing through the sky headed right for Spyro's chest. The young purple dragon desperately tried to counter, shooting out his own beam of convexity but knowing it wouldn't be enough. However, just at that moment a second beam joined with his, and the combined attack was enough to halt Malefor's in its tracks._

What?_ Spyro thought incredulously._

_Without breaking off his attack he glanced to his left and was shocked to see Cynder standing beside him, her face set in a scowl of deep concentration as she channeled all her energy into her attack. Greatly confused, Spyro looked back ahead and faltered once more. The landscape had changed. The ground was no longer made up of rock, but of dark violet crystal, and the sky was no longer filled with ash but instead was encased in stone, surrounding them on all sides. The scene was unmistakeably familiar._

_Just then Spyro suddenly became aware of another presence. It seemed to emanate from the very air around him, and at the same time it pressed uncomfortably against the back of his mind. It was a cold touch, and sent a horrible chill running through him. There was something frightening about that presence, and it made his skin crawl, but he couldn't escape it._

_Then, suddenly, he heard a voice within his head._

'_That's it, fight him,' it urged him. 'Don't give in!'_

_Spyro shuddered at the sound. The voice was more unsettling than anything he had heard in his life, distorted, cold, and filled with malice. But what unsettled him the most about it was that while he was sure he had never heard that voice before in his life, something about it still felt vaguely familiar..._

'_Fight him!' the voice said again. 'Finish him!'_

_Finish him? Was that really what he wanted to do? He wanted to stop Malefor, certainly. He couldn't allow the world to be destroyed. But to kill?_

'_Finish him!' the voice ordered him, more forcefully this time. 'You've come too far to fail now! Be rid of him, and fulfill your destiny! Fulfill your purpose!'_

_Spyro faltered, fear rising within him again. That sounded far too much like what Malefor had just said._

'_Fulfill your destiny! Everything depends on it! Finish him!'_

No_, Spyro thought frantically, shaking his head but unable to speak while he held his beam of convexity. _I don't want to!

'_Finish him!'_

No! _he cried inwardly._

'_FINISH HIM!'_

"NOOOO!" Spyro roared desperately, jolting upright in a panic.

His head swam dizzyingly, and his vision blurred and refused to focus as his eyes darted about frantically, his mind trying to sort out where he was and what was happening. His heart was pounding out of control, and he was shaking violently. He tried to stand but found that his limbs were too weak and shaky to manage it.

"Hey, easy now!" a voice called out suddenly, and Spyro was vaguely aware of the sound of soft footsteps on a stone floor before someone was suddenly standing over him, pushing down against his shoulder. "Relax! You're safe!"

"W-where am I?" he demanded, his voice shrill with fear and confusion. "Who are you?"

"Calm down!" the voice commanded him firmly. "Please, you need to relax! Your body can't handle the stress yet!"

"Why won't you answer me?" he cried, still struggling frantically but unable to get a grip with his claws on the floor. "What's going on?"

"You're in the infirmary! Everything is fine!"

Spyro faltered, a wave of confusion sweeping over him.

"I-infirmary?" he repeated shakily.

Slowly he ceased struggling, and as he did he was finally able to take in his surroundings for the first time. He was no longer in the centre of the world, he realized finally. It had all been a dream. Instead he was lying inside some kind of small, round room with smooth stone walls, a cool stone floor and a wooden roof. He was lying on a pile of thick warm blankets, and white strips of cloth had been fastened around the various small wounds he had sustained over the last few days he had spent fighting. Then his eyes fell on the figure standing over him, and he was surprised to see a female mole gazing down at him with a look of great worry in her eyes. Her small paws were gripped firmly on his shoulder, holding him down.

"What do you mean, infirmary?" he asked, fear still evident in his voice.

"You were brought here six days ago," the mole told him gently. "You were unconscious, nearly dead. We've been treating you here ever since."

"I...I don't understand. Am I in Warfang?"

The mole shook her head, much to his confusion. "No. This village is called Bayside. Warfang is far from here."

"But...that doesn't make sense. If this isn't Warfang, then how did I get here?"

The mole didn't answer. Instead she looked up toward the room's small doorway. Puzzled, Spyro glanced over as well and when he saw who was standing just beyond the threshold he did a double take in surprise.

"Cynder?"

"Oh, Spyro, you're awake!" the black dragoness exclaimed, and before he knew it she had flung herself at him and had grabbed him in a crushing embrace, burying her face in the base of his neck just above his chest. "I was so worried!"

"C-Cynder?" Spyro gasped, shocked by her reaction. "I don't...I don't understand. Where are we? The last thing I remember, I had woken up in some kind of valley..."

Cynder nodded as she released her hold on him, taking a step back and sitting back on her haunches facing him. "I don't know if you were conscious then, but that night there was a storm. I managed to find shelter in a small cave with some wolves, and when the rain stopped they showed me where this village was."

"It looked as if she barely managed to carry you all the way here, too," the mole added, glancing up at Cynder. "I'm told she collapsed as soon as she was through the gate. The poor thing had run herself ragged trying to get you to safety."

"Really?" Spyro asked, surprised. He looked back up at Cynder and saw her avert her gaze, almost as if from embarrassment, but she nodded.

"I was so scared you weren't going to make it, Spyro," she said softly. "If you hadn't..."

"She got you to us just in time," the mole continued when Cynder trailed off. "A minute longer and we might not have been able to save you. As it was we managed to get you stabilized, but I tell you, that was one tense night."

Spyro looked away sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" the mole exclaimed. "What on earth do you have to be sorry for?"

Cynder was also looking at him in confusion. Spyro sighed.

"For scaring everyone. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, Spyro," Cynder told him. "You just did what you had to do. There's no reason to feel sorry for that. No one's angry with you."

The mole nodded in agreement, and Spyro smiled gratefully up at the black dragoness. However, just then her expression changed into a darker grin.

"But even if I'm not mad, you owe me big time for what you put me through. So you had better make it up to me, mister."

She reinforced these last words by jabbing a talon at his chest, and Spyro gulped nervously. Seeing the reaction she had been hoping for, Cynder laughed and got to her feet.

"But for now, I guess I'll let you get your rest," she said as she turned to leave the room. "If I were you, I'd take advantage of this chance I'm giving you. See you later Spyro!"

And with that she disappeared through the low doorway, leaving Spyro staring after her in shock. The sudden swing in her mood from concerned to playful had caught him thoroughly off guard. Then the mole chuckled, catching his attention again, and he looked up to see her looking after Cynder and shaking her head with amusement.

"She barely left your side the whole time you were here," she told the purple dragon. "We nearly had to force her to go out into the village to eat for the first few days. It got easier when your condition improved, of course, but still I have never seen anyone that concerned for someone else in my life."

"Really?" Spyro asked.

The mole nodded. "It's easy to see that you two have grown very close during your journeys together. You're both very lucky to have a friend that cares so much."

Spyro nodded slowly, looking away and staring off into space, lost in deep thought.

"Well, now that you're settled down and awake, I bet some breakfast would be welcome right about now. I'll go see what we can get for you. Don't you try and go anywhere."

Spyro nodded obediently and, satisfied with his answer, the mole let go of his shoulder and promptly exited the room, leaving the purple dragon alone. When she had gone Spyro tiredly laid his head back down on the blankets, his mind racing as it sifted through the nightmare he had just experienced, but more importantly the conversation he had just had. One thing he knew for certain, though: the mole had been right. He had never stopped to consider it before, but now he realized that he was indeed fortunate to have a friend like Cynder who would stick with him no matter what. Of course during their latest adventure she'd had no choice, being chained to him and all, but her actions since Malefor's defeat were proof enough. Spyro smiled. Yes, he was glad he had Cynder as his friend.

But then he paused, a small frown replacing his smile. Though he didn't understand why, something about that conclusion just didn't seem right, and this realization puzzled him greatly. He could say with all honesty that he was extremely glad to have the black dragoness as a companion, especially now, but for some reason the word friend just seemed off. He realized that he had never stopped to consider it before, and now that he did it brought a rush of strange feelings that he didn't know how to classify. If she wasn't just his friend, then what was she to him?

He glanced toward the door again, and for a moment he saw an image of her standing there in his mind, glancing back over her shoulder as she left the room with a tender, playful smile on her face. His heartbeat spiked, and a warm feeling he couldn't begin to explain washed over him for the briefest of moments before the memory faded away. He turned his head away and closed his eyes, trying to sort out his confused feelings while a single question echoed over and over in his mind.

_Could it be more?_

***.*.*  
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Over the next few days, Spyro's recovery progressed quickly, much to the relief of the moles and Cynder. But Spyro couldn't feel relieved, not when he was trapped inside that tiny room constantly. As much as he pleaded, the moles refused to let him leave until he had recovered more of his strength and there was no longer any doubt that he was out of danger. Though greatly irritated, Spyro was forced to admit that no matter how badly he wanted to be outside he probably didn't have the energy yet to do anything when he got there. When no one had been looking on the first evening he had tried standing on his own, only to collapse flat on his chin after rising halfway off the ground. The sound had alerted the moles of what he was trying to do, and he'd been forced to endure a stern scolding by the furry healers until they were satisfied with his promise that he wouldn't do it again until they told him he was ready. Cynder, who had been present for the telling-off, had barely been able to contain her laughter.

And so Spyro resigned himself to spend the endless hours of each passing day lying on the floor in the small infirmary room, staring out the small window high in the back of the room with a wistful expression on his face. He had suggested that the moles let him out for just a short while so that he could lie in the sun and the open air instead of the cramped chamber, but they had refused.

Even his meals offered him no distraction from the mind-numbing sameness of each successive day. His diet consisted solely of hot soups the moles prepared for him, and while he had to admit that they tasted quite good the complete lack of variety was almost unbearable. But the moles refused to give him anything else to eat, claiming that the soup was the easiest for him to digest and was the best means of restoring his strength quickly. He had long since given up arguing.

Put plainly, the great purple dragon was _bored_. After spending weeks and months fighting for his own survival and that of the world against apes, grublins, and evil dragons—he didn't count the three years that he had been trapped in that time crystal—the complete inactivity now was threatening to drive him out of his mind.

The one thing that allowed him to maintain his sanity was Cynder. Spyro was nothing short of astounded at the lengths she took to keep his spirits up in this trying time. While she was away often, she would still spend hours at a time lounging beside him in the room, telling him about the village and the surrounding forests that she would spend hours exploring each day, or about the moles that lived in the village and the tales they had to tell of the surrounding lands.

Much to his surprise, one day she had even gone so far as to reveal all that there was to tell about her past. He could hardly even remember how it had come up, and he had never expected her to tell him the things she did. He had always respected her need for privacy in this matter, hoping to spare her from reliving what must have been extremely difficult memories. But to his great surprise, without any prompting at all she had decided to tell him everything. Though it had obviously been difficult at times, Cynder had never faltered and didn't stop until her story was complete, and while Spyro would never have asked her to talk about it she had insisted that she wanted to do it. She had said that by opening up about everything she hoped she could finally put it behind her once and for all, and that he was the only dragon she felt she could do that with. In this way he was honoured, and he didn't dare undervalue the trust she was showing him in telling him these things. He gave her his undivided attention, listening until she was out of words and out of breath, and when she was finally finished he was more than happy to be there for her when she needed comfort.

Aside from the stories, when there was nothing to tell she would still remain in the room to keep Spyro company. The moles had apparently brought in extra cushions and blankets on the third night after their arrival at the village when Cynder had flatly refused to accept a more comfortable room elsewhere once her own treatment had been complete, and she had been spending the night there ever since. Spyro had been surprised at first, but he could hardly complain. Now, whenever she wasn't out in the village or exploring the surrounding forests she was curled up on her cushions, talking or simply relaxing in her fellow dragon's company.

Unfortunately it was impossible for Cynder to be in the room all the time, as much as Spyro wished otherwise, and in those times that she was gone time seemed to slow to a crawl. With nothing else to do, Spyro could only lie and wait for her return. Often, as the days dragged by and Spyro became more and more restless, he was surprised to find that he began to become almost resentful of the black dragoness for being able to travel freely about whenever she wanted, leaving him alone for hours trapped in that same, plain room every day. However his bitterness always evaporated instantly the moment she reappeared in his doorway, and as much as he wanted to be angry he was unable to maintain even the slightest grudge when he saw her bright smiling face. It was the most unusual sensation. When she was with him he was happy, but also dreading when she would inevitably leave again. Whenever she was gone he found his mind filled with thoughts of her and a deep longing took hold of him for her to return.

But despite his bitterness, he knew inside that she wasn't purposely leaving him to be lonely and he could tell she felt guilty about leaving him alone. Every time she walked into the room and saw his depressed state a sad look came over her expression. In an attempt to cheer him up she promised that as soon as the moles released him she would show him all around the village and the forest. Whenever she said this his mood immediately brightened, and from the stories she had already told him about the place, he was certain it would be worth the wait.

Finally, five days after first regaining consciousness, their chance arrived. Shortly after his breakfast had been brought to him and promptly eaten, Spyro was surprised when the same female mole that had greeted him upon awakening walked briskly back into the room, a purposeful look on her face.

"Alright, let's have a look at you," she declared, clapping her small paws together. "I don't know about you, but I think you've been lazing around here long enough. Let's see just how far along you've come, shall we?"

Spyro was caught off guard by the energy in the mole's voice, and he glanced toward Cynder only to see her sitting on her own cushions with a twinkle of amusement in her eyes and a broad smirk on her face, trying to keep from laughing at his wide-eyed expression. He scowled at her, but this only made her grin grow wider.

"Alright, on your side," the mole instructed him. "Let's have a listen and make sure that cough is all cleared up to start with."

Reluctantly, Spyro complied with the healer's instructions. It was extremely uncomfortable having the mole picking over him, checking the sound of his breathing, the strength of his pulse, whether his temperature felt it was within a healthy range, and much more. It seemed to drag out for an eternity, and with every minute that passed Spyro became more and more anxious for it just to be over. It appeared that Cynder felt similarly; the amusement had gone from her expression by that point, replaced by a serious look. It was clear that both of them wanted to hear good news, but the mole gave no hints as to how her inspection was going. Her expression was a blank mask, her tone of voice always neutral as she gave instructions. Spyro wasn't sure how much longer he could take the suspense.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the mole let out a long breath and straightened up, her work completed. Her expression was tight, and as the moments ticked by without any word spoken Spyro found himself growing more and more uneasy. Cynder was leaning forward with a tense yet expectant look about her expression, and Spyro imagined his own expression must be similar.

"Well?" Cynder said a moment later.

The mole glanced briefly in her direction, her face as impassive as before. Then, slowly, the corners of her mouth began to curl into a smile. In a flash her expression warmed considerably, an unmistakable gleam of pleasure in her eyes.

"I'd almost call it a miracle," she said finally. "From the looks of it, you're well on your way to a full recovery." She shook her head slowly. "I can hardly believe it."

"What do you mean?" Spyro asked, confused. "You didn't think I would recover?"

The thought brought with it a twinge of fear, and Spyro shuddered at the idea that all along the moles may have held little hope for his survival.

"Oh, we knew you would recover," the mole said quickly, dispelling his fears. "At least after we got you through those first few days. But we thought it would take far longer than it has. It's actually...astounding how fast your strength is returning."

"Well, you get used to surprises like that with Spyro," Cynder smirked.

"You know," Spyro said with a shrug and a sheepish grin. "Purple dragon..."

The mole laughed. "I suppose I should have expected that. Anyways, as it is I'm sure you'll be happy to learn that you are well enough now to leave the infirmary—"

"Really?" Spyro exclaimed excitedly. In a flash he had jumped up to his feet, but almost immediately he felt a tremendous wave of dizziness and swayed dangerously.

"_If_ you make sure to take it easy!" the mole added in a shrill voice as Spyro nearly toppled over on top of her. Fortunately for her, Cynder leapt to her feet and managed to catch Spyro at the last second. The diminutive healer gave a massive sigh of relief before continuing, "And it would probably be for the best if you only go out for a little while at a time until you recover more."

"Good idea," Spyro nodded, still feeling light headed.

"We'll be careful," Cynder assured the mole before turning to usher the purple toward the door. Spyro gave a yelp of surprise as she suddenly shoved him from behind. "Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on him!"

The mole chuckled and shook her head as she watched the two dragons disappear out of sight. Spyro, meanwhile, was nearly in shock as he was pushed along toward the infirmary's main door.

"C-Cynder?" he stammered. "What are you doing?"

Cynder laughed as she appeared by his right side, using her shoulder to continue shoving him along, obviously amused by his startled tone of voice.

"I have been _dying_ to show you around this place for days now!" she told him, flashing him a bright smile that nearly made his heart stop. "Trust me, you'll understand when you see for yourself. Now come on!"

"Okay, okay!" Spyro exclaimed. "I'm coming!"

Despite his assurances that he was following, Cynder didn't stop pulling him forward until they had reached the doorway of the infirmary and paused on the top step. As soon as he saw the view outside Spyro's eyes went wide with amazement and he gave a quiet gasp of surprise.

"Wow..." he breathed. "This place is..."

Cynder giggled and nudged him with her shoulder. "Told you."

"Yeah, but...wow."

Though the village laid out before him wasn't at all grand or intricate in construction, the peace and tranquility of it and the surrounding landscape made it wondrous to behold. In a way it reminded Spyro a little of his childhood home in the swamp, with the calm natural setting and small, simple feel of the village itself. The calm atmosphere was instantly contagious, and Spyro felt a smile growing on his face as he felt any lingering worries melting slowly away, leaving an inner peacefulness he hadn't experienced since first leaving the swamp.

_No wonder Cynder always seemed so happy_, he thought.

"Come on," Cynder urged him, tugging gently on his foreleg. "Follow me."

Without waiting for a reply she began descending the wooden staircase that led into the central dirt roadway that led through the length of the village. Spyro paused for just a moment longer to look around at the surrounding land again before hurrying after her.

They spent the next half hour touring the village, Cynder showing Spyro everything that the moles had shown her during the time that he had still been unconscious. Spyro was amazed by the sheer tranquility of the small village. The moles there had extremely simple lives, with none of the luxuries the he had noticed the residents of Warfang having during his extremely brief stay in the dragon city. However, they appeared perfectly content with their situation, and all of them bore bright expressions as they wandered amongst the small buildings and pathways. They all greeted their two dragon visitors warmly as they passed. Spyro immediately noticed that they seemed much friendlier toward Cynder than him, most likely from getting to know her over the week and a half that she had been amongst them, however they did still show the expected level of awe and reverence when Cynder would introduce them to her purple companion.

Spyro had never been so happy to be outside in his life. It was absolute bliss for him to be free of that confined chamber at last, out in the open air with the sun shining down on him, nothing but the blue sky above his head and lush green forest around him. At first Cynder tried to tell him about the village and the places she was showing him, along with small stories of her own various experiences within the village, but it soon became clear to her that there was no need. It wasn't that Spyro wasn't listening, only that at the moment his sole concern was enjoying the change of scenery. She didn't seem to mind, and was perfectly happy sharing in his silent company.

It was only a short while later that Spyro began to grow weary, and he made no argument when Cynder suggested that they return to his room in the infirmary for a rest. Though he would have liked to keep exploring, he knew there would be plenty of time for that later in the day, as well as the days to follow as his recovery continued. He was in no rush, and now that he was finally able to accompany Cynder on her outings in the village any trace of his previous loneliness had vanished.

Over the next few days Spyro and Cynder spent every minute possible wandering the village and the forest, the range that Spyro was able to travel increasing steadily with each outing. Soon he was able to leave the infirmary for hours at a time, and much to his delight Cynder stayed by his side for every moment. As the days passed, he found himself appreciating her companionship more and more. Up until that point their only interactions had been in times of darkness and danger, when their focus was on survival and when cooperation had been a necessity for victory in combat and nothing more. As such the only side of Cynder he had ever gotten to see was a hardened one, isolated behind layers of armour that had been built up over years of fighting. As a result it often felt like he was seeing her for the first time now. She seemed totally at peace, her bearing holding none of the tension he had so often noticed or the pain she had carried because of her past. Her emerald eyes contained a sparkle of joy that hadn't been there before, her smile coming easily and often. He quickly realized that he had never felt a happiness like the kind he felt being with her in those times. He was filled with a warmth he had never known before, and while it sometimes puzzled him he often found himself wishing that things would never have to change.

Slowly, the days turned into weeks, and as much as both of them would have loved to continue in that carefree way forever eventually the reality of old responsibilities began to intrude on their newfound peace. As Spyro's condition continued to improve, they began to realize that soon enough they would have to face the next phase of their journey: their return to Warfang. When he thought about it, Spyro realized that he could hardly remember how long they had been away from the city, and he also realized with a slight pang of guilt that the guardians were most likely wondering at that very moment where he and Cynder had disappeared to. The same concern was obviously on Cynder's mind, and it was rapidly tainting the joy they had found in the peaceful life of the village. Eventually, Spyro was forced to come to terms with a sad reality: as much as he would have loved to stay in Bayside indefinitely, with Cynder at his side, the two of them needed to seriously begin trying to determine how they were going to get back to the dragon city.

This subject was at the forefront of their minds one afternoon as the two of them sat in the back corner of the village's small dining hall, which had been set up specifically to accommodate the two dragons. Cynder had told Spyro on one of the first days he had been awake that the moles had been gracious enough to clear out a space for her at one of the tables, removing the mole-sized chairs and replacing them with soft, comfortable cushions that were much more suited to a patron of the draconic kind. They had even set up the table for two at Cynder's request, which Spyro had been surprised to learn but extremely grateful for as well. That afternoon the two of them were enjoying a meal of assorted fruits and a seasoned stew the smell of which had been enough to make the dragons' mouths water the moment they stepped through the door—while the moles of the village weren't in the habit of preparing meals of meat as the moles in Warfang were for their dragon diners, the dishes they served were nonetheless of extraordinary quality. While they ate, they were busily discussing a potential plan of action, trying to determine how to get back to the city from their present location but having little success.

"This would be so much easier if we just knew exactly where we were," Spyro grumbled as a mole server gathered up his now-empty plates and took them away. "Haven't any of the moles you've talked to been able to tell you exactly where Warfang is from here?"

"North," Cynder replied simply. "But I never really asked for detail. It wasn't exactly the first thing on my mind."

She offered a sheepish grin, and Spyro chuckled with a mild feeling of embarrassment, glancing away.

"Really, though, we should be glad it's not a lot worse than it is," she said suddenly. "I never even considered it at the time, but we could have easily ended up reaching the surface on the completely wrong side of the world!"

Spyro looked back at her in surprise, having never thought of that possibility. Then, as the initial shock wore off, he gave a hesitant smile.

"Well, when you put it that way..."

She chuckled, but all too soon her expression darkened into one of worry and frustration.

"But that still doesn't help us figure out what we're going to do," she sighed. "I mean, we can't really just start flying and hope we see something. There's no guaranteeing that we'll see something recognizable before we miss the city completely."

"We might find another village where they could give us a more precise direction," Spyro suggested.

"Yeah, but do we want to risk it?" Cynder asked doubtfully. "What if we don't find anything? We'd be completely lost."

Spyro snorted with a half-grin. "You know, when you think about all the things we've already been through, getting lost in a place like this doesn't really sound too terrible."

"Maybe not," Cynder conceded, also grinning. "But personally, I would like to make it back to Warfang sometime in the foreseeable future, before everyone's given us up for dead."

"Ah, you worry too much," Spyro joked, waving a paw dismissively. "They didn't give us up for dead for three years last time."

"Yeah, only because they needed us to still be alive if they were going to have any hope. Now that Malefor's gone, they don't anymore."

Spyro frowned, finding her words deeply troubling. "Well, way to keep a positive outlook."

"Sorry," Cynder said guiltily, though still with a smile.

Spyro sighed and looked out across the dining hall, deep in thought.

"I still think that if the moles here don't have a precise direction for us to follow to get to Warfang then we should fly north and look for a village closer to it. Because one thing I do know is that if we just stay here we'll never get any closer."

"I don't think you want to fly."

Spyro jumped with surprise when the unknown voice suddenly cut in on their conversation, and he and Cynder both whipped their gazes around to see that the speaker had been a mole sitting a couple of tables over from them. It was easy to see that he was elderly, with unkempt greying fur and what looked to be signs of blindness in one of his eyes. He was reclining heavily in his chair with a mug of some kind of steaming beverage clutched in his paws that neither dragon was familiar with. When he spoke, it was with a raspy voice.

"I'm sorry?" Spyro said uncertainly.

"I said that I doubt you want to try flying back to your city," the mole told them, turning his head to look at them out of his good eye.

"Why not?" Cynder asked in confusion.

"Because there's the small matter of being on the wrong continent," the mole replied evenly. "You'd have to fly across the sea."

"The sea?" Cynder repeated, surprised.

She and Spyro exchanged a quick glance, both with wide eyes, caught off guard by this news.

"Yes," the mole nodded. "Quite a distance to cross without land to rest on when you get tired."

"I've flown across an ocean before," Spyro pointed out sceptically.

"Ah, and your stamina now is as good as it was then, is it?"

Spyro hesitated, looking away and suddenly feeling uncertain.

"I didn't think so." He turned his gaze toward Cynder, studying her for a moment. "And I somehow doubt you would be up to carrying him all that way like you did to get him here."

Cynder's expression deepened into a scowl. The mole, seeing this, gave a light chuckle.

"Now, now, I don't mean any offence. I have no doubt you're stronger than you look. However, your friend looks like he would be quite a weight for even you to carry for so long." When he noticed Spyro's indignant look, he added, "Again, no offence."

"Right," Spyro grunted, somewhat doubtfully.

"No, unless you decided to take the time to fully regain your strength here first, I don't think the two of you will be flying home."

"But we don't know how long it will take for you to get your strength back," Cynder said worriedly to Spyro.

"No," Spyro agreed. "And we probably can't wait that long anyway. We've been gone too long as it is."

"But then what can we do?" Cynder asked, beginning to sound helpless. "Does that mean we're stuck here?"

"Now, hold on," the mole cut in suddenly, raising a paw to quiet the two distraught dragons. "I didn't say that there wasn't any way across the sea. I just said you wouldn't be flying."

"Huh?" Cynder said, looking up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you could go by ship."

"By ship?" Spyro repeated in surprise.

"Yes," the mole nodded. "Until three years ago, when this...Dark Master began causing so much trouble up north, the moles of Warfang would regularly send trade ships into this area. Not far to the north from here the stream joins a large river, which then flows north into the sea. Where the stream meets the river the river makes a sharp bend, and there's a sheltered bay which is a very convenient place for trade ships to stop to resupply and unload their goods. This village isn't called Bayside for nothing, you know."

"So, you mean that moles from Warfang used to come here?" Spyro offered.

The mole nodded again. "Indeed. Until three years ago, that is, when it apparently became too dangerous to send ships out from the city anymore. Before that, we here at Bayside had quite the healthy trade agreement with the moles of Warfang. A ship would arrive near the beginning of each month, and the crews would regularly stop here in the village for a respite before setting off on the return journey."

"The start of the month..." Cynder said softly. "That's in only a couple of days."

"So you think that they'll start sending the ships again now that the war is over?" Spyro asked the mole with a renewed energy in his voice.

"I don't see why they wouldn't," the mole shrugged. "After years of fighting, I'm sure the moles in Warfang are growing desperate for the goods they could only gain through trade before. They won't be able to afford to delay the restoration of their old trade routes. Trust me; I've been around long enough to know. Trade is a necessity for any city that large."

"Well if they do send a ship, then that would take us directly back to the city," Cynder said, turning once more toward Spyro. "Warfang is right on the southern coast."

"That's right," Spyro said with growing excitement. "It would be an ideal way to get back."

"You think they would have room on a ship to take on the two of us without any warning?" Cynder asked the mole anxiously.

"Oh, I have no doubt. Especially when it's the purple dragon we're dealing with."

Spyro turned away, suddenly self-conscious and slightly embarrassed.

"Well that's it, then," Cynder said excitedly. "We have a way back!"

"That's great!" Spyro exclaimed happily. "We can go home!"

Then, just as quickly as their excitement had come, it was suddenly replaced by a strange sort of reluctance. Spyro looked up again at Cynder to see a sad expression forming on her face. It only took a moment for them both to understand the cause the shift.

"Which means we'll be leaving soon," Cynder said slowly.

Spyro nodded mutely, looking away again.

Though it surprised him, the idea of leaving that place caused a surge of sadness within the purple dragon. He realized that he had never felt the kind of peace he had experienced in Bayside since first leaving the swamp three years ago, and the idea of losing that again was one he could hardly bear. What if there was still some lingering threat left over from the Dark Master's defeat? As soon as he and Cynder got back to Warfang, they would be thrust right back into the middle of it. And while he wasn't one to turn his back when others were in need, after all that he had been through recently a small part of him felt that he was entitled to be more selfish for once in his life.

"I can see that in the short while you've been here you two have developed quite a fondness for this place," the mole chuckled when he noticed their expressions. "It's not surprising. We rarely get travellers here, but when we do it's always the same. This land seems to be like a sort of haven, untouched by the troubles of the world beyond. I'm one of the few in this village who have travelled to the main continent, and so I know the feeling."

"I wish we didn't have to go," Spyro sighed, and Cynder nodded her head in silent agreement. "I mean, I want to see the guardians again, and Hunter." A smile began to tug at the corner of his mouth. "And Sparx. But to leave this place so soon after getting here?"

"It's a wonderful place, alright," the mole nodded. "Especially the falls."

"The falls?" Spyro repeated in confusion. "What falls?"

The mole gaped at him in absolute shock, and Spyro quickly became uncomfortable under his gaze and shifted his paws uneasily.

"You mean you haven't seen the falls?" he gasped. "You've been here for weeks, and nobody's shown them to you?"

"No," Cynder replied, shaking her head. "We've never gone more than a few minutes' flight from the village."

"I don't believe it!" the mole exclaimed, his face suddenly turning into a scowl. "Unforgivable. To think that we were going to let you leave without showing you. Absolutely unforgivable."

"What are the falls?" Spyro asked curiously.

"Where the stream joins the river, at the same place a smaller river also flows into the bay from the west," the mole explained. "It flows out of the mountains, and where it does leave the mountains it forms a large pool at the base of the most magnificent waterfalls you'll ever lay eyes on. They're almost legendary here. I can't believe nobody's told you this!"

"Where are they?" Cynder asked.

"Many miles to the west. It usually takes two days of walking for a mole from this village to reach them. A long trip, but worth it without a doubt."

"It wouldn't take very long to cover that distance flying," Cynder said thoughtfully, turning toward Spyro.

"Flying?" the mole repeated in surprise. Then his expression became thoughtful. "Yes, you might even make it before nightfall if you left now..."

"Now?" Spyro exclaimed in surprise. "But what about the ship? Even if we did fly, we wouldn't be back until late tomorrow at the absolute earliest, and more likely not until the day after. Isn't that cutting it a little close?"

"What, you're afraid the ship from Warfang will leave without you?" the mole laughed. "Somehow I doubt that. Even if they somehow did make it to the village before you returned, I'm certain they'd delay their return trip when we told them that we knew where their missing purple dragon was."

"Come on, Spyro!" Cynder urged him, rising eagerly to her feet on the other side of the table. "Let's go! It sounds like fun."

"Yeah, but..." Spyro said uncertainly, still feeling very anxious about leaving even after the mole's assurances.

"Please?"

The sudden change in her tone of voice caught the purple dragon thoroughly by surprise, and when he looked back at her he saw a desperate longing in her expression. It was all too clear; she really wanted to go to the falls, and she really wanted him to go with her. When he saw that pleading look in her eyes, all of a sudden it became impossible for him to refuse.

"Okay," he relented with a small smile. "Let's go."

Spyro had never seen Cynder's face light up like it did at those words. She gave the largest smile he had ever seen from her before laughing out loud in delight and lunging forward across the table to grab him in a joyful embrace. Spyro's eyes nearly bugged out of his skull in shock. His whole body felt frozen in place by surprise while the blood in his face began to burn and a tight fluttery feeling rose in his chest. A numb weak feeling seemed to sweep over him, and when she released him a moment later he hardly noticed, frozen in place by shock.

"Come on, Spyro!" she exclaimed as she made a dash for the door.

"Um...okay," he said weakly, far too quietly for her to have heard him. Still, it took him almost a full minute before he had gathered his senses enough to move again.

_That was so strange_, he thought to himself as he slowly rose to his feet, thinking of the way he had reacted just then.

Strange, but he had liked it.

Just then he heard a low chuckling from nearby. Realizing it was the mole, he turned a puzzled look on the old creature. The mole was shaking his head in amusement as he took another sip of his unknown drink, a sly grin stretching his features.

"What?" Spyro asked in confusion.

"Oh, nothing," the mole snorted, looking innocently away. Then he added, "But you made the right choice."

"Huh?"

But the mole said nothing more. Spyro was just about to press him for an answer when a call from the door of the dining hall caught his attention again.

"Spyro, are you coming?"

"Oh, yeah!" he yelped in surprise. "Yeah, I'm coming!"

He dashed between the rows of low tables for the doorway, barely avoiding barrelling through a couple of them on the way. The few other moles currently in the hall gave startled cries as he sped past them, his paws thudding heavily against the wood floor.

"Just fly north until you see the river!" the old mole called after him. "Then it's due west from there!"

"Thank you!" Spyro called over his shoulder just as he reached the doorway. Once he was through he skidded to a stop to find Cynder looking back at him with a broad smirk on her face.

"You stopping to order dessert or something?" she teased, her emerald eyes sparking with amusement.

"Uh..." Spyro gulped when the strange weak feeling returned to him. "No. I was...um..."

Fortunately for him, he was saved from his feeble stuttering when the black dragoness laughed brightly and turned away, spreading her wings wide.

"Well, we're not going to make it to the falls just standing here. Shall we?"

Spyro nodded quickly as he spread his own wings, not trusting his voice enough to speak. Satisfied, Cynder leapt into the air gracefully and Spyro was right behind her, taking to the air with a fair bit more effort and having to pound his wings for a moment to catch up with her as she pulled ahead with easy wing strokes.

"So?" she called back over her shoulder as she glided for a moment to allow him to catch up to her. "Do you know which way we're going?"

"North," Spyro answered, pointing with his chin. "We'll follow the stream until we get to the river. Then we'll follow that west."

"Sounds good to me," Cynder nodded, and she banked her wings easily to the left and pulled up directly over the small stream. Spyro was right on her tail.

They followed the winding stream at an unhurried pace for several minutes. Both of them were eager to make it to their destination, but both of them knew it was best to pace themselves. Though Spyro had strengthened considerably over the last few days, he was still far from in peak condition. He had to be careful if he was going to be able to make it all the way to their destination. Cynder obviously recognized this as well because she flew right off his wingtip, glancing regularly at him to check his condition and allowing him to set the pace. Even so, Spyro couldn't help but push himself slightly faster when he thought about the way her face had lit up when he'd agreed to go and realized just how badly she wanted to see this place.

It was almost an hour later that the bay came into view over the trees ahead. Only a few minutes after that Spyro was able to make out other details much more clearly. The large river the mole had spoken of flowed rapidly in from the east before entering the bay, where the river widened and slowed considerably. Then it turned sharply north, disappearing over the horizon. On the outside of the bend was the bay, probably worn out of the outside shore over years and years of the rapid flow of water grinding against it. Within the most sheltered area of the bay a large wooden dock had been constructed, big enough to accommodate a moderately-sized ship. On the shore a small dock-side village had sprung up, consisting mainly of small storage and supply sheds, an inn for travellers to find accommodations, what looked like a tavern or dining hall and a few small houses.

"Think that's where the ship from Warfang will arrive?" Spyro asked.

"I would say so," Cynder replied, nodding. "I wonder how long it takes to sail across the sea."

"I guess we'll find out."

Spyro allowed his focus to shift from the small port village and soon located what he had been looking for all along. On the far western shore of the bay a small waterfall flowed over a low cliff at the edge of the forest and into the bay. Though mostly covered over by large trees, Spyro was still able to trace the path of a moderately-sized river winding through the trees, heading westward. At the very edge of his vision, just barely poking out above the horizon, he saw the peaks of mountains.

"Looks like that's our route," he declared, pointing with a talon at the river. "It should only take us a couple more hours to reach the mountains."

Cynder paused with a thoughtful expression and looked up at the sky, judging the progress of the sun.

"Then we should make it just before the sun starts to set," she concluded. She smiled. "Good timing. I can't wait to see it."

Spyro nodded in agreement and banked his wings to turn toward the mouth of the smaller river. With Cynder following right by his side he glided easily down until he was only a few feet above the treetops, watching the leafy canopy whipping past just beyond the reach of his talons, the shaded river below snaking lazily back and forth. It was such a calm, serene landscape that Spyro had absolutely no difficulty putting aside his anxieties about missing the ship back to Warfang, as well as the growing weariness in his wings from the flight, which was by far the longest since being let out of the infirmary.

Just under two hours later, as the sun began to dip toward the mountainous western horizon, their destination came into view ahead. The trees fell away to reveal a wide, calm pool at the very base of the mountains, looking almost like a miniature lake. The surface was almost completely smooth, except on the western bank where it became a churning, bubbly torrent as sheets of water fell into it from ledges much higher up in the mountain. Starting at the base, Spyro allowed his eyes to wander up the rocky face of the mountain, tracing the snaking path of the falls as they cascaded down the assorted cliffs and plateaus.

His breath was taken away almost immediately. Toward the top of the mountain three distinct trails of water splashed and twisted playfully down the rock face, sending up a fine spray that hung in the air like a cool mist amongst the scattered patches of greenery growing out of the mountain's sheer eastern slope. Then, about halfway down the mountain, the three different streams angled toward each other before meeting in a smaller pool that had formed between a group of rock outcroppings. Then, from there the water flowed over a sharp overhang before plummeting straight down into the lake below with a thunderous roar. It was the most stunning natural display he had ever seen, causing even Twilight Falls west of Avalar to seem insignificant by comparison.

"Wow," Cynder gasped from beside him, her face bearing a wide-eyed look of wonder that perfectly mirrored Spyro's own. "It's...amazing!"

"Yeah," Spyro nodded, his voice barely more than a whisper. "That mole wasn't kidding."

Cynder laughed. "No, he sure wasn't! Come on, race you to the falls!"

"Wait, what?" Spyro said, shaking his head roughly as he snapped out of his daze. He looked over at her in confusion, but she was already away, laughing brightly as she dove for the lakeshore below.

"Hey, no fair!" Spyro called after her, though he was laughing by now as well. "Wait up!"

"Not a chance, purple boy!" she shouted merrily over her shoulder. "Catch me if you can!"

For a moment Spyro only stared after her, surprised and doubting if he had any chance of catching her when he was still recovering and she was in full health. Then, all at once he pushed those thoughts completely out of his mind and grinned broadly.

"Alright, you asked for it!" he declared loudly, and with a hearty laugh he pulled his wings in and dove sharply after the black dragoness.

The chase was fast and filled with laughter from both parties, though in the end it was greatly one-sided. Though Spyro tried his absolute best to catch Cynder, she proved to be far too quick for him. It was immediately clear that even if he had been in top condition it still wouldn't have helped him; her much more slender form allowed her to easily avoid him at every turn. He came close to catching her twice, but both times she simply twisted gracefully out of the way, shooting him a large triumphant grin before shooting away into the sky again. And while he knew that he should be annoyed by the way she was so blatantly toying with him, he was enjoying himself far too much to actually be angry.

Then, a short while after the aerial chase began, Spyro thought that his chance had finally come. After avoiding him for a third time, Cynder glided low over the surface of the small lake at an easy pace, thinking she had left him far behind—which she had. However, he had the advantage of altitude. With a smug grin forming on his muzzle, he beat his tired wings once to gain speed before streamlining his body and shooting like an arrow through the air toward her. He rapidly picked up speed, soon crossing half the distance that separated them. Trying hard to contain a triumphant laugh, he began extending his wings and angled to pull up directly above her.

She must have heard him, for at that very moment she glanced over her wing and gave a startled squeal when she saw him barrelling toward her. She beat her bright wings hard once, instantly doubling her own speed, and Spyro cursed in his mind as she began to pull away. He was so close; only a few feet separated the two of them.

_I can't let her get away now!_ he exclaimed in his mind. _Not when I'm this close!_

In a final desperate act, he stretched out with a forepaw as far as he possibly could, trying to at least tag the end of her tail before she darted out of his reach. But she pulled it away just before he could make contact, her giddy laugh ringing in his ears, and he overextended before he could stop himself. He gave a startled cry as his balance failed him and he tumbled out of the sky, his shout getting cut short as he ploughed side-first into the surface of the water and was immediately swallowed up.

His world spun crazily for several seconds, to the point that when he finally stopped Spyro couldn't tell up from down. He thrashed about as he tried to find his bearings and right himself, but it was no use. Even when he opened his eyes the glow of the setting sun was no help to him; the water was such a deep blue that any sunlight that reached him was just a flat glow, making it nearly impossible for him to determine the source. He wasn't yet panicking, but even so he was beginning to grow desperate for air and it seemed clear that he wasn't going to find it soon.

Then he heard the muffled sound of a second body punching through the water's surface, and only a moment later he was yanked backward as something grabbed him around his middle. Before he could even begin to make sense of what was going on, his head broke clear of the water and he sucked in a huge breath of air at the same time as he tried to cough to clear his lungs.

"Spyro, are you okay?" Cynder exclaimed anxiously. "Are you hurt?"

Spyro quickly realized that she was holding him up by a foreleg that was wrapped around his stomach while she used her hind legs and wings to keep them afloat. Her expression showed a deep concern, but quickly turned to one of confusion when Spyro suddenly burst out laughing at his own clumsiness.

"Thought I had you," he chuckled, all while wiping water from his snout and blinking it from his eyes. "But I guess I should have know better."

Cynder gave a wry smirk as he continued laughing, but just then his laugh was cut short by a grunt of pain. Spyro's expression became pinched when he felt a twinge of pain shoot up from his right wing, which felt as if it had been twisted when he'd hit the water. He tried to move it and immediately gave another pained groan.

"Is it bad?" Cynder asked worriedly.

"No, just a sprain I think," Spyro replied quickly, though his voice was still tight. "Don't worry, I'm fine."

Cynder clearly wasn't convinced. She gave him a stern glare before pulling him gently toward the shore of the lake.

"Come on, let's get out of this water." Then she sighed and added, "I guess it's a good thing we weren't planning on flying back tonight."

Spyro offered a guilty smile, and Cynder rolled her eyes and gave him one final tug toward the shoreline before releasing her hold on him.

"Thanks for the save," Spyro said to her as they paddled for the southern shore, Spyro lagging slightly behind since he couldn't use his wings to propel him along like he normally would have.

Cynder snorted with amusement. "You owe me for this. When we came here, I wasn't expecting it to be for a swim."

They reached the shore only a minute later, and after shaking the water off themselves they decided to try and find somewhere sheltered to spend the night—the sun was already sinking rapidly toward the mountains, and light was already fading. Fortunately, Cynder quickly spotted a sheltered ledge partway up the side of the mountain by the edge of the small pool above the lowest waterfall that looked like it wouldn't be too hard to reach while being restricted to the ground. The climb was quick and relatively easy, and within a few minutes the two of them were settling in for the night by the water's edge, listening to the soft crashing of the falls against the rocks.

"It's so beautiful," Cynder commented in a soft voice, looking out over the forest below them, cast in a warm orange light from the setting sun.

"Yeah," Spyro nodded, smiling contentedly as he basked in the absolute peace of the moment. "I'm glad you convinced me to come. To think that we almost left without seeing this..." He trailed off into silence for a long moment before finally turning his gaze on the dragoness. "Thank you."

Cynder looked at him in surprise, but then she smiled softly. "Oh, come on. You don't have to thank me—"

"Yes, I do," Spyro cut her off suddenly, startling her. "And not just for this. I want you to know that I really appreciate everything you've done over these past few weeks, Cynder. Everything you did for me...I just can't believe it sometimes, and it's so much more than you needed to do—"

"Now hold it right there," Cynder cut in forcibly. "Don't you even start with that. After everything you've put yourself through over the last few years, it was the least I could do for you, and far less than I owe you."

Spyro straightened up in surprise. "Owe me? Cynder, you don't owe me anything—"

"Yes, I do! Spyro, I don't think you fully understand just how much you've done for me. If it weren't for you, I would hardly even exist as a person right now. I would still be what the Dark Master made me to be, what I've been my _entire_ life up to this point! But thanks to you, I can start over now. You were the only one that believed I was worth giving a second chance to, and because of that I owe you _everything_, Spyro!"

"Cynder, none of that matters to me!" Spyro protested firmly, with an intensity of feeling in his voice that surprised even him.

"None of it matters?" Cynder repeated in shock. "Of course it matters, Spyro! It matters to me! I would still be that monster if you hadn't stopped me three years ago!"

"Yes, but everything after that was from choices you made, Cynder, not me! I gave you a chance to choose your own path, like I believed you deserved as much as anyone does. That's all! You're the one who decided to become what you are now. You're the one who chose to stay at the temple as long as you did. You're the one who chose to fight against the Dark Master with me."

"Oh, yeah, some choice," Cynder snorted with a smile. "Let's see, I could have gone with you to fight the Dark Master because I was chained to you, or I could have gone with you to fight the Dark Master because I was chained to you. Hmm, tough one."

Spyro's expression became stern. "Cynder, I'm serious. You could have decided to stay in Warfang and try to find a way to get that chain off us. You could have refused, and I wouldn't have forced you to go. But as I recall, you told me more than once that you were with me. You chose to come." He trailed off, looking away for a moment before adding, "You chose to stay even as the world was breaking apart when you could have tried to save yourself. You are what you made yourself, Cynder. You're the one who overcame your past. You're the one who chose not to let what Malefor made you into define you. All I did was give you an opportunity. You owe me nothing for that."

Cynder studied him closely for several long moments, looking as if she were debating whether to believe his words or reject them outright. Finally she turned her gaze away, looking out at the still water below them, though from her eyes it looked as if she wasn't really seeing the water but instead was in some faraway place, lost in thought. One of her forepaws shifted slowly, unconsciously, until it settled on the metal bracelet she wore on her foreleg, tracing a nearly-invisible design on it with a single talon. Then, to Spyro's mild surprise, she seemed to snap out of her reverie and began tugging more forcefully on the decorative piece.

"Cynder?" he said hesitantly, puzzled by this sudden action. "What are you doing?"

She didn't answer him for a moment, focussing instead on her work, her face set in a frown of concentration until, with a soft click, the bracelet she was pulling on came loose and fell to the ground.

"Just something you said that got me thinking," she replied finally, looking up to meet his gaze, and when she did Spyro saw a strange light in her eyes, like she had just located some kind of elusive peace that she had been seeking for a long time. "You're right. It's my choice what I let define me." She picked up the bracelet that she had just removed and held it up between them. "These have always been a part of my past," she explained. "When I worked for the Dark Master, I was forced to wear them as a symbol of my bondage to him. After you freed me, I wore them as a reminder of what awaited me if I ever let him regain his hold, what the cost would be if I didn't resist. But now that he's finally gone, I don't have to live with that hanging over me anymore."

Spyro watched as she set to work on the second bracelet, the pinched look coming back to her expression as she struggled against the stubborn clasp. Then, with a low grunt she finally managed to pull it free, leaving her forelegs bare.

"I think I'm finally ready to move on," she declared, turning to face him again with a warm smile.

It took her less than a minute to undo the last two pieces from her neck and tail, and once she had she gathered the four thick rings of metal into a bundle in her forepaw and just sat there for a moment examining them, grappling with her last reservations about what she was doing. Spyro suspected that he knew what she was thinking; those cold pieces of metal had been a part of her for as long as she could remember, and it must feel now like taking them off meant removing a part of herself. But, then again, maybe it was a part that she would rather be rid of.

A look of sudden determination came over her features, and with a firm cry she threw the jewels as hard as she could over the cliff edge, watching as they sailed glinting through the air before landing with a tiny splash in the centre of the small lake, disappearing beneath the dark blue surface in an instant, never to be seen again.

It was done.

As Cynder sat completely still in the ensuing silence, staring at the growing ripples in the otherwise still water where a piece of her past had just vanished forever, Spyro spent a long moment studying her, a rush of strange and diverse feelings coming over him. One the one hand he was extremely proud of the dragoness for having the courage and strength to firmly place something so significant behind her. He doubted strongly that many dragons could overcome what she had, and much less have the determination to decide to let such a past have no effect on their lives in the future. There wasn't a single doubt in his mind that he was looking at an exceptionally strong dragoness.

But what struck him most in that moment—and this fact caught him very much by surprise—was her appearance. While he had thought at first that without her decorative collar and bracelets she would look plainer, if anything the opposite was now true. Without the metal pieces serving as a distraction the vibrant shades of her scales were free to shine through, and as he looked at her form silhouetted against the brilliant orange sky, her midnight-black scales gleaming in the last light of the sun, it felt as if his breath had been stolen away. He had never experienced a feeling like the one that had now swept over him, causing his heart to pound and his limbs to tremble with weakness. At that moment, a sudden realization hit him, and as much as he never would have expected it, the truth about those feelings was now impossible to deny. The feelings he had felt growing within him ever since waking up in the infirmary, that had overwhelmed him at the most unexpected times, could no longer be mistaken. The only question that remained was if there was any possibility she felt the same...

'_I love you.'_

The words sprang up so suddenly in his memory that he nearly jumped from surprise. Those words, said in scarcely more than a whisper that was nearly drowned out by the tremendous roar of crashing rock and splitting earth and yet that had somehow carried through to him and filled him with a swell of strength he'd ever imagined he had. Those words that had nearly been forgotten in the ensuing delirium of the days that followed, or that he had perhaps been afraid to remember for what they signified. But had he truly heard them, or had it been some fever-induced dream?

He had to know.

But just as he went to open his mouth, a surge of fear caused his throat to constrict. How could he possibly ask her? What could he say to approach that topic without making himself look and feel like a complete fool? And what if she hadn't actually said those words? What would it do to the relationship they already had if she were to find out that he had such feelings for her?

But in the end he realized he didn't have a choice. He would be driven insane with questions and worry if he didn't learn the truth. With a great deal of difficulty, he forced a fearful swallow and opened his mouth to speak.

_By the Ancestors, facing Malefor wasn't even as terrifying as this!_ he thought anxiously, at the same time demanding, _What am I doing?_

"Uh..." he began in a hoarse whisper. He forcibly cleared his throat. "C...Cynder?"

As if being jolted out of some distant thought, Cynder blinked several times before turning her bright emerald eyes on him. Spyro felt his temperature spike and his throat turn dry when he saw those eyes staring straight into him.

"I...was wondering..." he stammered weakly, glancing nervously in every direction except at the dragoness before him. "Um...When...when the world was...breaking up. When you chose to stay behind..."

He trailed off as his throat became so tight it became nearly impossible to speak, and he silently cursed himself for being so nervous. Why was this so hard?

"Did...Did you...?" he began again, his voice barely more than a squeaky whisper. "I-I mean, I thought I heard..."

"Spyro?" Cynder said, tilting her head to the side in confusion. "Are you alright?"

_No!_ he exclaimed in his mind. _I am not alright! Why can't I just talk?_

"Y-you remember, right after I asked you to...to leave?" he said weakly. "Did...did you...say..."

He thought he saw Cynder's eyes widen in surprise, and the thought that immediately sprung into his mind was, _She _did_ say it!_ But it wasn't enough. He needed to hear it from her. He needed to be absolutely sure.

Of course, at this rate, that was never going to happen. He realized that if he didn't gather up some guts and just ask the question soon, he was going to lose his nerve.

"I thought I heard you say...say that you..." He choked on the next words, but the idea of not getting the answer he was looking for terrified him even more than asking did, and all at once the words came spilling out, "I mean, I think I heard it. But it was so noisy, and at the time the only thing I was thinking about was stopping the world from breaking apart. I might have just imagined it, but at the same time I could have sworn that I heard it. At least I think I did, but then what if it was all just some sort of dream, and—"

Spyro was suddenly cut short when he found the flat of the blade on Cynder's tail pressed against his muzzle, silencing him. Startled, he looked up to see Cynder gazing back at him with a broad, tender smile on her face.

"It wasn't a dream," she told him gently, appearing greatly amused by his extreme anxiety. "You heard right."

"R...really?" he choked.

Cynder's smile grew wider, and she nodded.

Spyro wasn't sure if he was going to shout out loud for joy or faint from pure shock, and at that moment it felt like he might end up doing both at the same time. His head was spinning like it never had before.

"Really?" he said again.

Cynder laughed and nodded again. "Really, Spyro."

He looked away as he tried to sort out this revelation. "I don't believe it," he muttered. "I mean, I thought for sure I had just imagined it. But..." He gave a disbelieving chuckle. Then, before he knew it, the words came pouring out of him. "But now I'm really glad I asked, because you see there's something that I've had on my mind for a while now, and..."

The words came spilling out of his mouth so quickly that in only moments he had somehow lost track of exactly what it was he was saying. It was as if his thoughts and feelings had been building up for so long that, now that he was finally letting them out, his mouth was surging ahead of its own will. He hardly even stopped for air, his words sounding like a jumbled mess to him as his mind struggled to catch up. In the end, his thoughts only managed to catch up to his mouth in time to hear himself say:

"...and that's because I really love you Cynder!"

He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes going wide with shock at what he had just said. He was absolutely mortified by what had just come spilling out of him, unable to believe that in a moment like this, his way of confessing his feelings was in a flood of jumbled words that he couldn't even sort out in his own mind. As such he couldn't imagine just how awful it must have been to listen to, and when he saw the way Cynder was staring at him with that stunned expression on her face he felt like he could never face her again. What had he done? Here she had probably been hoping for some well-planned and thought-out, tender moment for these words to be spoken, and he gave her _that_?

But those thoughts were completely erased from his mind when, at that moment, without any warning at all he found Cynder's muzzle pressed tightly against the tip of his own. His eyes nearly popped right out of his skull in complete and utter shock, and his body had gone as rigid as a statue, but only a moment later he felt all his tension melt away as a warmth and joy unlike any he had experienced swept over him. They remained locked in that position for a long time, and Spyro found himself wishing that that moment could last forever.

Little did he know that in response to those thoughts time around them had begun to slow to a crawl, and if only his strength would last, it very well might have.

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><p><strong>GAH! Kissing scene! *covers eyes*<strong>

**On a more serious note, I expect some readers might be a bit surprised with the way this chapter went for a story that doesn't have romance as one of the genre tags, and the reason I didn't put it is because it won't be playing a primary role in the story. Elements of it will be present here and there, but that's about it.**

**So for anyone that's not into that kind of thing...Well...Deal.**

**One last thing: Updates are probably going to be coming a bit slower from now on. For one thing school work is starting to build up, but primarily it's just gotten to the point where my updates have caught up with my writing, so I don't have any more chapters in the works to post up in a couple of days. For this I apologize, and I will try my best to keep the updates coming quickly, but if a couple of weeks go by without another chapter then all I can ask is that you bear with me.**

**Thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing so far. I hope this story continues to entertain you moving ahead.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Alright, finally got the chance to finish up this chapter last night, so here it is. I actually surprised myself: this isn't anywhere close to where I was planning for this chapter to end, but it was getting to be INSANELY long so I split it into two. So I guess you can sorta call this Chapter 5, part 1...**

**Anyway, enjoy!  
><strong>

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><p><em><span>Chapter 5:<span>_

Terrador looked up when he heard an unexpected knock on the heavy wooden door of his chambers in the dragon temple of Warfang. Though he was surprised that someone would need to speak to him at this early hour of the morning, he had to admit that he was silently grateful for the distraction, whatever it may be. For the past couple of hours he had been looking over the most recent round of reports from the scouts he and the other guardians had been sending out in search of other dragon settlements. No new villages had been uncovered aside from the first three, but information was slowly flowing in from these.

It wasn't entirely encouraging. While Terrador was pleased to hear from the scouts that the three villages indeed seemed safe and well, there was frustratingly little progress in terms of reassuring the residents that it was safe to forsake their secluded shelters and venture out into the world again. Upon first learning of the villages, he had been hopeful that Warfang's dragon population might grow as dragons from these outlying villages travelled to the largest surviving dragon city to start a new life. However, not a single dragon had arrived in the city over the past number of weeks.

He was shaken from these thoughts when the knock on the door came again, and with a tired sigh the great earth dragon pushed himself to his feet and strode over to the door. Though the door was made of extremely dense and heavy wood, it took very little effort on his part to pull it open.

"Cyril," he said when he saw who stood on the other side of the doorway. "This is a surprise."

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry to interrupt," the ice guardian replied quickly, "but Volteer came to me just a moment ago insisting that we needed to come to the assembly hall immediately."

Terrador arched a brow suspiciously. "Did he say why?"

"Surprisingly, no," Cyril said with a shake of his head. "He gave quite a vivid description of just how urgent it was that we get down to the hall, but not once did he see fit to insert a reason into his usual incessant chatter."

Terrador snorted with amusement. "Alright, I suppose we shouldn't keep our friend waiting. Lead the way."

Cyril nodded stiffly before turning back down the expansive stone corridor through which he had reached the earth guardian's chambers. The temple itself was filled with corridors such as these, winding through its many expansive levels in a pattern that could easily make any unwary visitors lost in moments. The guardians, however, who had spent the last three years of their lives living in the massive structure and several more before moving into the old temple in the swamp, could practically navigate it blindfolded, and it seemed now as if Cyril hardly even needed to pay attention to where he was going as he led them down the fastest route to the assembly hall as if by second nature. As they walked, Cyril continued a steady stream of conversation with his fellow guardian.

"What I fail to understand is what could be of such grave importance that he can't simply tell us in person what it is," the ice dragon was saying. "Why make us come all the way to the assembly hall after he's already come up here to get us?"

"I have just about as many answers as you do, Cyril," Terrador replied, shaking his head. "Maybe it's some kind of announcement that Volteer wants to make to more than just us."

Cyril glanced sidelong at him with a suspicious expression. "Are you expecting some kind of news?"

Terrador didn't immediately respond. When Cyril had informed him of this unexpected summons, the first thought that had crossed his mind was that perhaps it was the news that they had all been hoping to hear. However, after weeks of false alarms and disappointments, that hope was beginning to wear thin.

"I suppose not," Terrador sighed. "Expect is the wrong word. More like a lingering hope."

"Hmm," Cyril grunted, giving a nod. "I suppose it's the same for us all at this point. But I can't help but wonder: if they were able to return, wouldn't they have by now?"

"You're implying that they were somehow injured in the final battle."

Cyril nodded stiffly again. "Or worse. Against a foe such as the Dark Master, it seems foolish to imagine that they escaped the battle unharmed, even if Ignitus did stay with them."

Terrador's only response was a tense grunt. When Ignitus hadn't returned to the city after departing with Spyro and Cynder to lead them through the Belt of Fire, the general assumption amongst his guardian associates was that he had elected to accompany the young dragons in the final battle against Malefor. However, it was now just over a month since Terrador had parted ways with his old friend, and now he had to admit that deep down he couldn't help but agree with Cyril: if Ignitus, Spyro and Cynder had been able to return to the city, they would have long ago.

Something must have gone terribly wrong.

These thoughts weighed heavily on his mind as he and Cyril turned a final corner at the base of a long flight of stone stairs and passed through the high arched doorway of the temple's central assembly hall. The chamber itself was massive, with high round walls of polished granite and a floor of the same composition. A ring of small windows was set high into the walls just below the rim of the domed ceiling, running from the east around to the north and ending in the west, while the south side was without windows because of the upper levels of the temple which would have obstructed any windows built on that side. The windows allowed natural light to flood into the chamber, suffusing the entire space with a warm glow in the otherwise cold room. In the centre of the room a large, round stone table was built up out of the floor, around which four figures now stood.

"Ah, there you both are!" Volteer called out cheerfully when he saw them enter the room. "We were just on the verge of coming to the conclusion that you had decided to forgo a response to my summons, which I fully admit to being short notice in nature and very much unexpected at such an early—"

"Yes, Volteer, we're here," Cyril cut in dryly. "Now how about you put that over-charged tongue to good use and tell us all what we're doing here?"

"Of course, of course," Volteer replied without missing a beat, appearing completely unfazed by the ice dragon's scathing tone. "Well, you see, just recently I have received word of two quite separate but equally pressing developments that I felt I should pass on to the two of you in a prompt and timely fashion."

Terrador arched a brow suspiciously, and his gaze drifted over to the other parties present at the table; two cheetahs, and one mole. One cheetah in particular held his attention.

"Indeed, yes," Volteer said, noticing where Terrador's gaze had settled. "Chief Prowlus arrived just this morning with news of a very urgent nature."

"I see," Terrador rumbled thoughtfully, glancing only briefly in Volteer's direction. Then he turned his attention back to Prowlus and gestured with a paw, inviting him to speak. Prowlus did so in his usual gruff manner.

"Well, as you know, ever since my tribe's return to our valley two weeks ago I have been ordering continuous patrols by both cheetah and falcon in the area surrounding Avalar," he stated. "The war may appear over, but without knowing where the remnants of the Dark Master's armies are located I did not feel comfortable letting our guard down."

"Very wise," Terrador commented with a nod.

Prowlus merely grunted. "At any rate, it seems as if my misgivings were well founded after all. Two days ago one of our falcon patrols came across some disturbing activity well to the west of our valley."

His demeanour had gone quite grim at these last words, and Terrador felt a qualm of uneasiness deep within him at the change in the chief's expression. He exchanged a glance with Cyril, whose own features were drawn into a tight expression.

"What kind of activity?" the ice guardian pressed.

"Grublins," the cheetah replied simply.

"Grublins?" Terrador repeated in surprise. "In Avalar?"

"No, but nearby," Hunter, the second cheetah in the room, responded, stepping up beside his chief. "At this time they have yet to make any kind of advance into our lands, but the scouts who have gone to investigate these findings—of which I was one of them—have determined that they seem to be gathering around the remains of the Well of Souls. It looks worryingly like they are mustering an army."

"That is indeed troubling," Terrador grunted, glancing back at Cyril and Volteer again. "While we have all determined that grublins are no enormous threat alone, en masse they can pose quite a problem for us."

"Pardon me, Terrador, but I don't think the grublins are our main problem in this incidence," Cyril protested. "I myself am far more concerned as to who might be leading them."

"As am I," Prowlus agreed. "Grublins have nowhere near the intelligence to gather their forces like they have now of their own decision. Someone else is controlling them; of that I am certain."

"The only problem is that, whoever it is, they are taking great care not to show themselves," Hunter sighed. "None of our scouts have seen any creature other than grublins around the mountain. Whoever their new controller may be, they know how to stay out of sight."

"You don't think it could be..." Volteer began in an anxious voice, glancing nervously between his guardian companions.

"I don't see how," Terrador replied immediately. "If the Dark Master were still alive, then none of us would be. As it is, the only possible explanation is that he was defeated."

"An accomplice of his, perhaps?" Cyril suggested. "Or another unfortunate like Cynder, enslaved by his will?"

"We have no way of knowing at this point," Terrador said firmly. "And speculating isn't going to do us any good."

"Well, whatever you chose to do with this information isn't of my concern," Prowlus said dismissively. "I merely felt compelled to deliver this warning to you before the grublins began advancing."

"And it is appreciated," Terrador thanked him. "Do you want any dragons to accompany you back to your village in case the grublins move against you?"

Prowlus immediately shook his head, his expression deepening into a scowl. He said forcefully, "That will not be necessary. The way I see it, the best defence for my people now is in secrecy. The grublins do not know we are on to them, but the presence of dragons in our valley will more than likely tip them off and only make us more of a priority target for them. No, if the need arises that we require your assistance we will call for it then, but not before."

"Very well. But if the time comes that you do need us, do not hesitate to ask. After all, we owe you for your help in the defence of this city."

Prowlus nodded stiffly. "Well, I see no further need of my presence here. Hunter shall remain behind to ease communications between us, but I take my leave of you now."

"Thank you very much for bringing this information in person, Chief Prowlus," Terrador told him graciously, inclining his head. "Safe travels."

Prowlus made no reply as he turned sharply on his heel and marched out the far exit of the large atrium, his cloak billowing behind him as he disappeared at a rapid pace from sight. When he was out of sight, Cyril gave a loud disapproving huff.

"Abrasive, that one," he scowled. "I often wonder how one can be of such a foul disposition so constantly."

"He means well," Hunter replied with a hint of a smile.

"At any rate, the information he brought us is of great importance," Terrador declared. He turned toward the mole who had until this point remained silent in the discussion. "Mason, has the city guard been informed of this news?"

"They have, Master Terrador," the stout furry creature replied with a sharp nod. "The guards along the wall are on alert, as well as reserve forces within the city. Work was already well underway to repair the catapults along the walls as well, so they should be operational in plenty of time before any advance by those foul creatures."

"Very good," Terrador said approvingly. "If that is all, then you may be dismissed to see to any further preparations that you think are required."

"In fact there is just one more thing," Mason said. "It may not be of critical importance, but since I'm already here I figured it was worth noting. Shortly after spreading the news that our friend Prowlus brought us, I was informed that the crew of the merchant ship we were about to send south is considering delaying their departure in light of this new threat."

"Are they now?" Cyril said with some surprise. "I was told that they were of the opinion that the restoration of our old trade routes was of vital importance."

"Indeed it is, Master Cyril," Mason nodded. "However, with things as uncertain as they are right now it is not the ideal situation for poorly-defended merchants to be venturing outside the safety of our walls."

"How long are they thinking of delaying their trip?" Terrador asked.

Mason merely shrugged his small shoulders. "I couldn't tell you that, Master Terrador. Perhaps indefinitely, or perhaps not at all. These sailors are hardy folk, so it's hard to tell just how they'll handle this threat."

Terrador grunted and nodded his large head. "Thank you for telling us this, Mason."

Mason nodded his head smartly before turning and taking his leave of the guardians to continue seeing to the preparations of the guard. The three dragons and Hunter watched him go in silence before turning to face each other again.

"So is that all the news that you had for us, Volteer?" Cyril asked.

"Oh, no, there was one more announcement that I wanted to make," the electricity guardian replied with a rapid shake of his head. "And this one is of a considerably more positive nature than these other rather depressing and unsettling developments that have been brought forward already."

Terrador and Cyril both leaned forward expectantly.

"Well, you both remember, several years back, that one young dragon that Ignitus was so fond of?"

Terrador and Cyril both frowned thoughtfully for a moment, before both of their faces lit up in recognition at the same time.

"Ah, yes, of course," Cyril nodded. "What has it been...eight years? I've often wondered what became of that young dragon."

"Indeed," Terrador agreed. "After the fighting against Cynder's forces began to heat up, I had begun to fear the worst for anyone outside of Warfang."

"Well, it turns out that in this case there was no need for such worry and anxiety," Volteer told them. "The last messenger we sent to the eastern city has brought back word of him."

Terrador and Cyril both jerked back in surprise.

"Really?" Terrador said.

Volteer nodded, smiling broadly. "Yes, yes, I was pleasantly surprised and delighted to hear this news. It turns out he is doing quite well, and has been living in safety in the eastern city ever since we lost contact with the outlying populations. It even turns out that his father is chief elder of the city."

"Is that so?" Cyril said. "Well, this is certainly a welcome surprise."

"That's not the only surprise," Volteer added quickly. "He's coming here."

"He is?" Terrador and Cyril both blurted at the same time.

Volteer nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, the messenger reports that he will be making his way here to Warfang in no more than two weeks' time. He apparently is quite eager to continue his studies here in our city."

"Then we had best hope Ignitus returns before then," Terrador said. "He will certainly be eager to be reunited with the young one."

Volteer and Cyril both nodded in agreement.

"Well, that is all that I wished to tell you," Volteer spoke up a moment later.

"Thank you very much for calling us, Volteer," Terrador told him. "We appreciate you keeping us informed on these developments."

"Even if it is at such an unseemly hour," Cyril frowned, glaring up at the windows high above to see the orange glow of the still-rising sun coming from the east.

Terrador chuckled. "Indeed."

Cyril merely grunted before rising to his feet and turning to leave the chamber in the direction from which he and Terrador had come. Volteer also rose to leave, heading for a separate exit. Terrador lingered behind for just a moment longer, his mind working over all the unexpected developments of that morning. Despite the war apparently being ended, it seemed as though things in the city were going to remain exciting for some time to come. Then, just as he turned to depart, Hunter moved up beside him.

"If I may ask," the cheetah said, "who is this young dragon you were talking about?"

Terrador chuckled again, glancing away as if looking out over a great distance.

"It's a long story."

***.*.***

For what must have been the tenth time that afternoon, Spyro's head shot up when he thought he heard voices coming from the north end of the village. Almost immediately, however, he let out a disappointed sigh when he saw that it was only a pair of moles within the gate greeting each other as they passed in the street. Feeling even more anxious than before, he dropped his gaze to the ground in front of his paws and resumed his anxious pacing back and forth on the dusty roadway.

"Spyro, can you please stop that?" Cynder called to him from her position seated on the side of the road several feet away. "You're wearing a hole in the road!"

"I can't help it," Spyro replied sheepishly. "Something feels wrong."

"You're just being paranoid. Just because they're a couple of hours late, it doesn't mean something terrible has happened. Honestly, with you it always has to be the end of the world."

Spyro paused in his pacing long enough turn a hurt gaze at the black dragoness, but when he saw the smirk on her face he couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"Well, funny enough, with me it always has been up until now."

Cynder snorted, but then became serious. "Spyro, come on. Can't you just try and relax for a little while?"

Spyro sighed again and looked back toward the northern gate with a conflicted expression.

"Please?" Cynder urged him, gesturing to the spot on the ground beside her. "Come over here."

Though a large part of him still felt like he was far too restless to stay in one place for any length of time, Spyro eventually relented and trudged over to Cynder's side, flopping down on his haunches with a tired groan. Cynder immediately shifted closer, leaning against his shoulder, and though still extremely anxious the contact was enough to make Spyro feel just slightly better.

"I just wish I knew what was keeping them," Spyro told her. "It's not that I expected them to be here at the exact second the mole said they normally would be, but still, being delayed this long?"

"If you think this is a long delay, then I'm afraid you may be in for a nasty surprise, my young dragon."

Spyro started at the sudden raspy voice coming from close behind him, and he turned his head around to see the same elderly mole that had first told them about the ship leaning back against the wall of a nearby hut, seated leisurely on the small building's front wooden steps and looking very laid back.

"What do you mean?" Spyro asked him curiously.

"With sea travel, there's no fixed schedule," the mole replied plainly. "They get here when they get here. Granted the moles from Warfang were usually a very reliable bunch, but even they got caught up in the occasional unfortunate set of circumstances every once in a while. I wouldn't be surprised if we don't see them for another couple of days if something did slow them up."

"A couple of days?" Spyro exclaimed.

"But you told us they would be here today," Cynder protested, also sounding slightly alarmed by this new revelation.

"I said I thought they would be," the mole corrected her. "I'm not always right."

"Well, that's reassuring," she said dryly, scowling.

"But we really need to get back to Warfang," Spyro insisted. "We've been away for too long already!"

"Now just relax," the mole urged him calmly. "They'll be here. Whether it's today, tomorrow, or even later, I'm not sure, but they will come. Worrying yourselves to death about it isn't going to speed them up, either."

Spyro heaved a large sigh, and beside him he thought he heard Cynder do the same, but inside he knew that the mole was right. Working themselves up over something they had no control over would do them no good and only make them feel worse. He had to try and calm down and just allow things to take their course.

And so they waited together in silence as the minutes ticked by into hours with no sign of the Warfang moles. Eventually the sky began to darken as the sun descended toward the western horizon, the twin moons soon appearing overhead and casting the world in a dim blueish glow. At that point it became only too apparent that no mole travellers would be arriving in the village that night, and so resignedly the two young dragons made their way slowly back to the infirmary to try and get some sleep, though neither of them felt as if rest would be possible when they were so anxious. Nonetheless they gave it their best shot, curling up side by side on the blankets and cushions and trying to will their bodies to relax. It proved a tremendous struggle, but finally their exhaustion won out and they both slipped into a light, uneasy slumber.

The next day, much to the mounting disappointment of the two dragons, it looked as if things weren't going to go any better that day. They both awoke early with the sun, too anxious to sleep any longer, and within minutes they had resumed their post from the previous day, sitting and watching the northern gate expectantly.

When it became apparent that no moles would be arriving that day either, Spyro and Cynder eventually decided to try and get the ship out of their minds and headed for the dining hall for lunch before spending the afternoon wandering the village silently as they had done so often during the first days Spyro had regained consciousness, trying to soak up as much of the peace and tranquility as they could before their inevitable return to the bustling dragon city. As much as Spyro knew he would miss the calm, happy atmosphere there in Bayside, he had to admit that he was growing more and more anxious and eager to return to Warfang and be among members of his own kind again. Even after all the weeks he had spent living in the old temple with the guardians and Cynder before the Night of Eternal Darkness, he still felt as if living in proximity to other dragons in a city like Warfang would be an entirely new experience for him, one he could hardly wait for. On top of that, his mind was now often filled with questions about what plans the guardians had for him now that the war against Malefor was over.

He decided to voice these thoughts to Cynder later that afternoon when the two of them were resting back in their room in the infirmary.

"...I mean, the prophecy has been fulfilled, right?" he was saying. "The dragons' hopes for me came true, and now I have no idea where to go from here. Do I go back to the swamp where I grew up and live with the dragonflies that raised me, or do I stay in Warfang and keep training under the guardians? What is there to do now that there's peace and we're not needed anymore?"

Cynder was smirking with amusement as she listened to him rambling on with anxious questions. "You're really considering going back to the swamp where you grew up?"

Spyro frowned at her. "What?" he said indignantly. "That's where my family is, after all."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that," Cynder protested quickly, raising a paw in a reassuring gesture, and Spyro slowly relaxed. "I just find it funny, that's all. After saving the entire world, you're thinking of going back and living like a dragonfly again."

She laughed lightly at that, and while Spyro still felt mildly annoyed he couldn't help but smile from her infectious laughter.

"Yeah, I guess that is kind of silly," he relented. "So you think we should stay in Warfang?"

"Why not?" Cynder shrugged. "We seemed pretty well accepted there before, the guardians are there, and it's the only dragon city we know of that's still standing. It seems like the logical spot for our race to begin rebuilding, and I feel like it would be good for us to be a part of that."

Spyro nodded thoughtfully. "What would we do there, though? I can't even begin to think of what I would do with my time. Ever since I learned what I was, every waking minute was spent fighting for my life or training to learn how to survive. But now what?"

Cynder looked away for a moment in deep thought before saying uncertainly, "School?"

"School?" Spyro repeated doubtfully. "Really?"

Cynder shrugged. "I don't know. It seems like what dragons our age would be doing, and neither of us have ever been before."

"Yeah, but..." Spyro grunted, somehow finding the idea hard to grasp. "You really think you could see the two of us in a school? How would we fit in? We'd be so far behind..."

"I don't know," Cynder replied simply with another shrug. "I guess we'll just have to wait and find out."

"I guess so."

"I'm sure the guardians will have some kind of plan for us when we get there," Cynder added unconcernedly. "We'll be fine."

"I sure hope so," Spyro said with a half-smile. "Because I can't tell you how embarrassed I'd be if, after fighting off entire armies of apes and grublins, defeating the Dark Master and saving the world, I end up being the only one getting held back in a class because I've never been to a dragon school before."

Cynder laughed. "Oh, don't worry, you won't be the only one. I'm sure I'll be right there with you."

Spyro smiled gratefully, feeling significantly better knowing that, no matter what happened next, Cynder would be right by his side.

Spyro was just about to tell her this when at that exact moment they heard a loud commotion outside the infirmary. They both exchanged a puzzled look when the sound of running feet and excited voices reached them, seeming to come closer with each second that passed. As the commotion grew louder, Spyro began to grow uneasy and could feel his body going rigid, ready for danger.

_What's going on out there?_ he wondered anxiously as the shouting and calling reached a peak, though he still couldn't make out anything that was being said.

Just then there came the loud thumping of padded feet against the wooden steps of the infirmary and several startled exclamations from just outside the two dragons' room when someone apparently burst into the building.

"Where are they?" Spyro heard an unknown voice pant breathlessly, as if its owner had just run a great distance. "Are...they here?"

Spyro and Cynder immediately exchanged a suspicious look, suspecting that they knew who the 'they' was and thinking that they detected a panicky edge in the speaker's voice. Spyro could feel his body beginning to tense, an uneasy feeling growing within him. Something didn't feel right.

"Are who here?" another female voice asked, and this time Spyro recognized the voice of the healer that had greeted him upon first awakening. "You mean the dragons?"

"Yes, of course I mean the dragons!" the first voice gasped irritably. "Are they here? It's important!"

"Think we should check it out?" Cynder whispered to Spyro, and he could easily see the suspicious look in her eyes.

Spyro nodded after only a brief hesitation, and together the two of them rose to their feet and slowly edged their way toward the door of the room.

"Please, it's urgent that I find them!" the first voice said in an increasingly insistent tone. "If you know where they are then you have to tell me!"

"Why? Why the sudden urgency?" the healer asked anxiously, and inside Spyro felt a swell of gratitude toward the small mole female for trying to defend his and Cynder's privacy. "In case you didn't realize, they're both still recovering. Wherever they may be, I'm sure it's for the best if they're not disturbed—"

"Look, there's no time for this! Are they here, or aren't they?"

"We're here," Spyro called out as he and Cynder passed through the doorway and into the main hall of the infirmary, choosing that moment to intervene on the conversation. "What's going on?"

A very tired-looking mole standing just within the infirmary's main entrance immediately snapped his head around toward the two dragons, and Spyro was caught by surprise by just how out of breath he appeared to be. It looked as if he had just run a dozen miles with Malefor's entire army right on his heels, and all at once he felt a great swell of concern and uneasiness surge up within him, anticipating some kind of disaster.

"There you are!" the mole exclaimed, sounding immensely relieved. "You both have to come quickly! There's no time!"

"What's wrong?" Cynder asked worriedly, moving forward to follow as the mole spun around toward the door. "Tell us!"

"I'll tell you along the way," the mole urged them, waving with a paw. "Come on! Quickly!"

"Whoa, whoa, hold up!" Spyro protested forcibly. "We need to know what we're dealing with here before we go anywhere. What's the trouble?"

"Trouble?" the mole repeated, appearing strangely puzzled. "Oh, no, there's no trouble! Everything's fine."

"What?" Cynder said at the same time that Spyro's face turned into a confused frown. "Then why were you so desperate to find us?"

"The moles from Warfang!" the mole exclaimed. "They're here!"

Spyro's eyes went wide and his whole body became frozen in shock at those words. At first he could hardly believe what he was hearing, and he turned to look at Cynder as if searching for some kind of reassurance that those words were indeed true, but she only looked back at him with an identically shocked expression.

"Really?" Spyro gasped finally.

"Yes!" the mole said impatiently. "They're in the village square right now! They're only staying long enough to gather some supplies and basic cargo before they had back to the bay! We need to get you over there before they leave!"

"O-okay!" Spyro stammered, feeling excitement and anxiety flooding through him at the same time. "Cynder, let's go!"

"Right!" she nodded, and together the two of them leapt forward after the mole who had already spun around and was running down the stairs as quickly as his tiny legs would carry him. Just then, however, Cynder suddenly slid to a stop and spun around. Confused, Spyro skidded to a halt as well and was just about to demand what she was waiting for when he saw her rush up to the mole healer and grab the startled creature in her forelegs in a tight embrace.

"Thank you for everything!" the dragoness said with a surprisingly emotional tone to her voice as she released the wide-eyed mole. "You have no idea how grateful I am for all that you've done."

"Oh, please, don't mention it," the mole stammered, wringing her paws as if she were in shock. "It was my pleasure. Now, hurry along now. You don't want to miss your ship."

"Right!" Cynder said again. She turned around and locked gazes with Spyro. "Okay, let's go."

"Thank you!" Spyro called back to the mole before he and Cynder charged through the open doorway of the infirmary. They caught sight of the mole a good ways down the street ahead of them, heading deeper into the village. Without wasting a second the two dragons took off running after him, their paws thudding heavily against the dusty ground as they sprinted as fast as their legs would carry them. They caught up to the mole just as he rounded a corner between a number of low stone and wood huts and pointed with a paw that quivered with weariness.

"There they are," he panted.

Just ahead of them the rustic buildings fell away to reveal an open common area in the very centre of the village, which the two dragons had learned served as the main locale for various markets, festivities, village gatherings or any other day to day social activities within the village at all times of the year. Currently, a small crowd had gathered to marvel at a tight group of moles standing together in the centre of the square. These moles were easily identifiable as being from outside the village by their appearances; they were dressed in simple clothes worn down by their seafaring lifestyle, but even so they were significantly more carefully groomed than the village residents, attesting to the fact that they were from the great and prosperous city of Warfang. Beside them sat several bundles of goods from the village including various fabrics, assorted fruits and other produce from the village's outlying farms and other basic supplies. In return, many of the village residents were eagerly examining packages of freshly-forged tools for construction and farming, building and repair materials, and even some simple weapons for some of the villagers who lived in more remote areas surrounding the main village to protect themselves. Presently, the elderly mole Spyro and Cynder had spoken to frequently was addressing the travellers.

"Well, I have to say it's quite a pleasure to see you folk here again," he was saying in his usual raspy but kind voice. "When you didn't show up yesterday, some of us were beginning to think that you had all forgotten us in your big city."

"Our apologies," one of the Warfang moles replied. "Our departure from the city was delayed, due to...some unforeseeable circumstances. That's why we can't linger here as long as we normally would. We really should be off now."

"Are you sure you've got everything?"

The moles glanced around at the bundles lying on the ground by their feet, and the speaker nodded shortly afterward.

"It looks as if we have everything we need," he said. "It is very much appreciated."

"Are you absolutely certain you're not forgetting anything?" the elderly mole pressed, and Spyro thought that he could hear the hint of amusement in his voice even from where he stood.

The other mole frowned in confusion. "I am certain, yes. Why? You think there is something we're overlooking?"

"I would say so!" the older mole laughed heartily. "Why don't you take a look over there?"

He pointed his finger over in the direction where Spyro and Cynder were standing, and at the same time the two dragons stepped forward out of the cover of the surrounding buildings and out into the square past the other gathered villagers. When the mole sailors noticed their approach their eyes all went wide with shock, their jaws hanging slack.

"H...how?" the mole at the head of the group, the one who had been speaking to the elder, gasped in disbelief. "It's impossible! You're here?"

Spyro and Cynder both nodded, amused grins beginning to form on their muzzles.

"But how?" the mole exclaimed. "The guardians have been searching all over the main continent for you!"

"It's a long story," Spyro chuckled, glancing at Cynder.

Just then another voice suddenly called out from behind a number of the Warfang moles, and Spyro could see a number of the moles toward the back of the group getting jostled about as someone pushed past them.

"Move aside! Let me through!" the voice ordered.

The moles at the front of the group parted to allow another slightly shorter mole in significantly more military-looking dress to step through. As soon as he saw the two dragons he instantly froze.

"Why, if it isn't young Master Spyro!" he exclaimed delightedly. "And miss Cynder too!"

"Mason?" Cynder blurted in surprise when she recognized the speaker.

"What are you doing here?" Spyro added.

Mason laughed loudly at that. "I think it should be me asking _you_ that, young dragons! I have to say, this is quite the unexpected surprise. The guardians will certainly be pleased when we arrive back in the city with the two of you. Oh, wonderful!"

"So you think you have room on your ship for us?" Spyro asked.

Several of the moles laughed again.

"For the two of you? Of course!" Mason said happily. "No need to ask. We'd be more than happy to transport you back to the mainland. Let's be off, then. Warfang awaits!"

An excited grin stretched across Spyro's features, and beside him Cynder nudged him eagerly with her shoulder. With a renewed energy about their actions, the moles quickly gathered up the bundles of supplies and slung them over their shoulders, turning about to head back toward the northern village gate on the road to the bay. After pausing just long enough to say a final farewell to the elder mole and the other villagers who had been so accommodating, Spyro and Cynder hurried after them. Before long they had left the village behind them and had ventured into the lush surrounding forests, the bright sunlight giving way to the shadow beneath the thick leafy canopy high above their heads.

"So, what are you doing here Mason?" Spyro asked several minutes later as he shifted one of the larger bundles of supplies onto his back just below his shoulders after offering to take it from one of the more heavily burdened moles, who was only too grateful for his offer of assistance. "Shouldn't you be back in Warfang with the city guard?"

"Normally, yes," the mole replied dismissively. "However, on this particular trip the guardians decided it might be prudent if some of my men and I accompanied our merchant companions for this trip."

He gestured with a paw at a half-dozen of the other moles in the group, who like Mason were wearing light leather armour and carried thick swords almost as tall as they were and had bows and quivers of arrows slung over their backs.

"How come?" Cynder asked curiously.

"Were you expecting some kind of trouble?" Spyro added.

Mason merely shrugged, much to Spyro's and Cynder's bewilderment.

"Let's just say that the guardians had reason to think a little added caution was wise," he said, again in a dismissive tone. "I'm sure they'll be filling you in on all the details once we get back to the city, after hearing your story of course. Speaking of which, how did the two of you end up this far south, when last we heard you were headed to the volcano well to the _north_ of Warfang?"

Spyro and Cynder both chuckled, and Spyro said, "Like we said before; it's a long story."

Mason gestured with a paw at the winding road ahead of them, which stretched far into the distance and out of sight amongst the trees. "It's a long walk to where we're going."

After very little prodding, Spyro and Cynder agreed to retell all that had happened since leaving the dragon city. Not surprisingly, it was Cynder that did most of the talking, seeing as the purple dragon had been somewhat less than alert for a considerable portion of their absence. They didn't bother to go into great detail when it came to the time spent in Bayside, however, both of them feeling that a brief summary was all that was truly required for the less than eventful month spent relaxing there while Spyro regained his strength. The moles made for a very good audience, listening intently and respectfully as the two dragons talked and never once interrupting. However, as soon as their story was done, the mole erupted with questions, and the next few hours of travelling were spent answering their many queries and engaged in lively conversation. By the time the sun was beginning to set and the forest fell away to reveal the bay and the river lying ahead, Spyro felt utterly drained by the trek and the constant talking and was more than ready for a long night's sleep. He hardly even registered the ship that lay berthed at the dock on the far side of the small waterside village, it's twin masts standing tall in the growing darkness, though a part of him was still eager to get a closer look at the vessel in the morning.

The group of moles split into two once they reached the village. Half of them went to deposit their bundles of supplies and cargo in the storage sheds for the night while the other half, along with Cynder and Spyro, proceeded to the inn to secure accommodations for the night. The innkeeper that greeted them upon their entry into the building seemed momentarily overwhelmed by the presence of the two dragons in the group, and it took her several minutes of shocked stammering before she was able to regain her composure. However, once the initial surprise had worn off she was more than happy to invite the group in, declaring what an honour it was to have dragons, and the legendary purple dragon no less, come to her inn seeking shelter. She immediately guided Spyro and Cynder upstairs to the largest and most luxurious of the inn's rooms, which wasn't saying much in comparison to the rooms they had seen in their brief stay in Warfang but that didn't go unappreciated by them anyway. The mole made certain that the two of them knew to call on her personally if they required anything before departing the room and closing the wooden door behind her.

Cynder spent a brief moment examining the room they found themselves in before turning to Spyro with a broad smirk on her face.

"She didn't even ask if we wanted separate rooms," she said with a light chuckle.

Spyro laughed as well. "Are we really that obvious?"

"I guess so. Come on, help me move these beds out of the way."

Working together, it took them hardly more than a couple of minutes before they had a broad area on the floor of the room cleared away and the soft mattresses and blankets pulled off the beds and bundled into a nest-like arrangement on the floor just below the room's wide window that looked out over the calm bay, the waters sparkling peacefully in the moonlight. Then Spyro spent a long moment stretching out every inch of his tired body contentedly before lowering himself down on the blankets and mattresses beside Cynder, who was already settled in for the night. He gave a contented sigh as he felt her shift closer to his side, and it took him only moments to fall into a peaceful slumber with the warmth of her body against his own.

***.*.***

The sound of a balled fist pounding against their door sent Spyro leaping to his feet with a startled cry, jolting him roughly from his dreams in a near panic. Beside him, Cynder gave a muffled groan of irritation at the sudden disturbance.

"Wake up, you dragons!" a gruff voice called from the hallway beyond the door when the pounding promptly ceased. "The sun's shining and time's wasting! The sea waits for nobody, so up and at 'em!"

Spyro gave a silent sigh as he forced his nerves to settle, feeling slightly embarrassed at his reaction to the wake-up call. Beside him he heard Cynder snickering as she too pushed herself to her feet.

"What?" he asked challengingly but with a grin on his face.

"Oh, nothing," Cynder said innocently, averting her gaze out the window.

Spyro snorted with amusement and followed her gaze, noticing immediately that the sun had barely risen above the horizon. Yawning and trying to force the grogginess from his body, he was still alert enough to appreciate the striking view out the window. The waters of the bay gleamed with yellow and orange light reflected from the rising sun, and the thin wisps of cloud in the sky were stained in multiple bright colours. What caught his eye the most, though, was the merchant ship that stood proudly just beyond the shore, it's hull and masts shining in the bright morning sunlight and looking truly majestic even though it wasn't a large ship by any means.

"Wow," he commented to Cynder, who was likewise staring at the ship. "That's impressive."

"It sure is," Cynder agreed. "I can't wait to get underway. I've never been on a ship before." Then she frowned. "Well, on one where I didn't spend the entire time locked in a prison cell, at least."

Spyro snorted and nodded his head. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to actually being able to stay out on deck and take in the experience."

The two of them spent another short moment examining the ship before turning back to look at their room and the bedding that lay bunched on the floor at their feet.

"Do you think we should clean up at all?" Spyro asked Cynder uncertainly.

It looked as if she was just about to reply when another sharp rap on the door interrupted her, causing them both to start and glare at the door.

"Come on, dragons!" the same voice as before called impatiently. "Let's move it!"

"I think that's a no," Cynder remarked wryly.

Spyro chuckled again before walking over toward the door, feeling slightly guilty about leaving a mess but knowing there was no helping it now. Cynder was right behind him as he opened the door and stepped out into the hall, stopping to gaze down at the stout mole that stood with his arms crossed tightly over his chest and tapping a foot noisily.

"About time," he grunted, casting them a disapproving look. "The captain wants to be underway as soon as possible, so you'd better get a move on. I expect he'd be grateful for your help in the final preparations to get underway. Shall we?"

Spyro merely nodded, and apparently satisfied the mole turned on his heel and marched down the corridor toward the stair without even bothering to wait for the two dragons. Spyro shot Cynder an exasperated glance over his shoulder before hurrying after the short creature, reaching the stairs only a brief moment later and descending them quickly. The mole sailor was already at the door and exiting the inn by the time he reached the bottom and he hurried to catch up, making certain to thank the innkeeper before darting through the doorway and out into the cool morning air.

"Ah, so you've decided to join us, eh?" a rather large mole called over to the two dragons as they stepped up to the end of the dock a minute later. His clothing was definitively of the best quality out of the mole sailors that Spyro had seen so far, though still not of the same level as the moles of Mason's guard. Spyro figured he must be the ship's captain by his dress and his authoritative demeanour. "Good, because I won't be having slackers on my ship. It's an honour to have you both along with us on this voyage, of course, but so long as you're on my vessel you're going to pull your weight. Will that be a problem?"

"Not at all," Spyro replied, and beside him Cynder gave a sharp shake of her head to indicate that she felt the same.

"Good. Then how about you start by taking these bags of supplies up to the deck? Come on, now, step to!"

Spyro looked toward the two thick bundles that the mole pointed to, noting with a slight scowl that they appeared quite heavy, and he couldn't begin to guess what was contained inside. However, he knew there was no use in complaining about the task presented to him, and so with Cynder's help he got the larger of the two bundles settled on his shoulders before helping her with the second. Then together they hurried down the length of the dock and climbed the ramp to the ship's deck, where another mole directed them to a hatch that led below decks where they could deposit their load. Along the way Spyro noticed Mason standing with his six guard moles farther forward on the ship's deck, apparently going over their own final preparations for the voyage. Then they disappeared from his sight as he descended the steep stairway leading to the lower holds of the ship, searching for somewhere to stow his cargo.

Over the next hour the rest of the cargo was loaded and the ship was readied for a swift departure. Then, once all preparations were complete, the mole crew members cast off from the dock and pointed the ship northward, catching the light wind in their sails and setting off northward into the steady flow of the river, operating with a level of efficiency that Spyro found highly impressive as he watched from his and Cynder's perch atop the ship's main sail.

"Oh, Master Spyro!" the mole captain shouted up to them suddenly, sarcasm laced into his tone. "I hate to impose, but if you were to feel so inclined, since you're already up there it would be greatly appreciated if you could double check the rigging on your end!"

Spyro frowned in irritation, and beside him Cynder gave a heavy sigh before turning a scowl in his direction.

"When did I sign up for this crew?" she quipped.

"Wish I knew," Spyro groaned. "Come on, we'd better get working."

It became clear quite quickly for the two of them that they were not in for a relaxing voyage. Obviously the moles didn't often get dragons aboard their ship, and now the captain was determined to take full advantage of the strength and versatility they offered for the crew now. They spent the rest of the day scampering about the decks, helping the mole crew members with a diverse assortment of manually intensive tasks the likes of which neither of them had ever had to experience before. The moles appeared to be greatly enjoying themselves as they watched the dragons struggling to keep up with the ever-mounting workload, though they were all good-natured in their teasing with the obvious exception of the captain, and by the time the sun began to set that evening it was clear enough that they had been fully accepted into the crew, which Spyro felt was no small accomplishment. The evening meal was spent in the ship's galley below the main deck, and the moles of the crew eagerly invited Spyro and Cynder to join them at the main table. They thoroughly enjoyed the meal spent in loud, rambunctious conversation, the moles asking unending questions about the adventures of the two dragons and Spyro and Cynder more than happy to share. When the meal was finished and the conversation finally died down, the two dragons retreated to the upper deck and found a quiet spot to finally relax at the very front of the ship, gazing out over the unending waters that could hardly be differentiated from the sky anymore in the rapidly growing darkness of the night, with only the stars to illuminate the world around them.

"I can't remember a time I've worked so hard," Cynder groaned as she leaned heavily against Spyro's shoulder. She then added wryly, "I usually had someone to do that kind of labour for me."

Spyro snorted briefly with laughter. "I don't think I've ever been worked this hard either. I didn't realize it at the time, but I _really_ had it easy in the dragonfly village growing up."

Cynder chuckled. "You missing the simple life, mister hero?"

"Maybe a little."

Cynder grunted thoughtfully, looking out over the water again. "I bet it was lovely."

"Maybe if we ever get a chance, I'll show you sometime," Spyro offered.

Cynder looked up at him with surprise in her sparkling emerald eyes. "Really?"

Spyro nodded. "If you would like."

"I would love that!"

Spyro smiled. "Great."

"Would we stop to see your parents?"

Spyro nodded again. "Of course. I'm sure they would love to meet you."

Cynder looked away once again, and for a moment Spyro thought he caught a hint of embarrassment in her expression—in the darkness, it was difficult to tell—and he chuckled and resumed looking out over the sea again. He sighed contentedly as Cynder rested her head against the base of his neck, but then as he thought of his parents a mild feeling of what could almost be called regret intruded on his moment of peace.

"It's been so long since I've seen them..." he remarked quietly.

"I'm sure they understand," Cynder offered reassuringly. "They should be proud of all you've done."

A grateful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Thank you, Cynder."

Just at that moment the two of them were aware of footsteps behind them, climbing the wooden steps leading to the upper deck at the bow where they were now sitting.

"Oops," a familiar voice said, and Spyro turned to see Mason standing behind them with a sheepish expression on his face, but clear amusement as well. "I'm not interrupting anything, I hope."

"Not at all, Mason," Spyro chuckled. "And what brings you out here?"

Mason held his paws up, indicating the two lanterns he was holding. One was lit, while the other remained dark.

"Just helping set up for the night shift," he explained, motioning with the hand holding the unlit lantern at the rigging above their heads.

"Would you like a hand?" Spyro offered, extending a paw toward the lantern.

Mason shrugged. "If it's not any trouble, I don't see why not."

He handed the lantern over to Spyro, who promptly lit it with a short burst of his fire breath before reaching up and hanging the lantern amongst the ropes above his head. Mason nodded his head approvingly.

"It seems the captain was right," he said. "Having a couple of dragons onboard sure makes things easier. You know, he seems quite impressed with the work you two did today."

"Really?" Cynder said, surprised. "It sure didn't look like it from where we were standing."

"Ah, that's just how the old fellow is," Mason said dismissively. "From what I hear, you rarely know if you're on his good side, but you sure know quickly if you're not. Take the uncertainty as a good sign, then."

"If you say so," Spyro said, exchanging an uncertain glance with Cynder.

"Trust me." Mason then turned to leave, but he stopped himself at the last moment. "Oh, I almost forgot. The captain expects we'll be making port at Warfang sometime tomorrow evening."

"That's good news," Cynder commented, sounding pleased, and Spyro felt a small swell of excitement as well. "I can hardly wait to be back."

Mason nodded his head in agreement. "Yes, I'm sure you are after being away for so long. At any rate, the captain says he's expecting good conditions all through tomorrow, and he doesn't foresee any difficulties. All the same, the two of you should probably hurry up and get some sleep while you can. I expect the captain will be working you all through the day tomorrow as well, so you'd better be rested up."

"That's probably a good idea," Spyro said as beside him Cynder stifled a massive yawn. But then he hesitated. "Um...Where exactly will we be spending the night?"

Mason looked as if he was about to reply, but then he also hesitated, a thoughtful frown on his face. "You know, that's a good question. The only sleeping accommodations on the ship are the hammocks below decks for the moles. As you can imagine, there's usually no need for dragon-compatible bedding on a ship."

"I didn't think so," Cynder smirked. Then she looked up at Spyro. "But I hope we can figure something out quickly. It's starting to get cold out here."

"Indeed," Mason agreed. "Well, why don't the two of you follow me? I'm sure we can arrange something."

He turned about and quickly scampered back down the steps, heading for the hatch that led to the lower decks of the ship. After exchanging one final glance with Cynder and giving a small shrug Spyro followed after him, hoping that whatever sleeping arrangements Mason managed to find were comfortable enough to sleep undisturbed through the night.

Then again, he was so completely exhausted that Mason could probably offer him a mattress made of thistles and he would be asleep the instant he lay his aching body down.

_I'm not sure, but I think I'm _really_ going to appreciate a proper bed in Warfang when we get back._

* * *

><p><strong>So, that's it for part 1. Chapter 6 (aka chapter 5 part 2) should be finished *hopefully* some time soon. Don't worry, the wait will be worth it. One thing I can promise you for the next chapter is some ACTION!<strong>

**Until next time...  
><strong>


	7. Chapter 6

**Wow, I'm actually kind of amazed that I managed to pump this chapter out this fast. Exciting chapter = fast writing = fast upload, I guess.**

**Anyway, like I promised, ACTION!**

**Enjoy.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 6:<span>_

"Land ho!"

Spyro's head shot up at the sudden, enthusiastic call, and immediately he craned his neck upward to get a glimpse of the mole standing high above his head in the crow's nest pointing insistently with one paw ahead.

"The city is just on the horizon, captain!" the mole exclaimed.

"Excellent!" the captain replied in a very pleased tone. "We're ahead of schedule. At the pace we're going, we should make port within two hours." He turned his attention to the rest of the crew. "Alright, let's start preparations for docking. Get a move on, the lot of you! Young Master Spyro, if you would be so kind as to assist the moles currently on the mast?"

"Yes, captain!" Spyro called back quickly, and he wasted no time in spinning around and running toward the shorter of the two masts and leaping into the air, catching a brief glimpse of Cynder working on the far end of the deck before having his vision obscured by the large sail.

Half an hour later he was busily working away on the top of the sail with a pair of moles when the lookout suddenly called for attention again.

"Captain!" he yelled insistently.

"What is it?" the captain called back, sounding mildly perturbed at the interruption.

"I have a ship off the starboard bow! It looks to be heading this way."

Spyro paused in his work to look up toward the speaker, puzzled by this announcement, and could see him gazing through a small spy glass at a shape far on the eastern horizon. From this distance Spyro couldn't even begin to make it out, but he was still certain that it hadn't been there a moment ago.

"Do you recognize it?" the captain asked a moment later.

"No, captain. It doesn't look like any of the other ships I've seen around Warfang."

"Alright, keep me posted on their position. Everyone else, keep working! Maintain heading."

Spyro frowned, a strange suspicious feeling rising within his gut, and he suddenly decided to investigate. Abandoning his work and with wings half-spread, he quickly made his way along the top of the sail's wooden yard with an ease of balance that, over the course of the previous day, had made the mole crew members immediately jealous. Within seconds he was perched at the very tip of the long wooden spar, peering out intently over the waters, trying to make the ship in the distance fall into focus. A minute later he heard a rush of air behind him but didn't turn around to look, assuming it was Cynder. He was right.

"Can you make it out yet?" she asked, leaning forward to squint past his shoulder.

Spyro shook his head. "No, it's still too far away. It looks big, though."

"Some kind of warship from the city, maybe?" she suggested.

Spyro glanced back toward her. "Does Warfang even have any warships? I didn't think they did."

Cynder grunted. "I don't know."

Spyro's scowl deepened, and he returned his attention to the distant ship. Though a dragon's eyes were extremely keen in comparison to most other creatures, even they couldn't make out details clearly at this enormous distance. All he could tell for certain was that the new ship was definitely bigger than their own. Though he didn't know why, a sense of unease was settling over him, as though some sixth sense was warning him of danger. By Cynder's grim silence he could tell that she felt the same, and he expected her instincts for such things were considerably more developed than his own.

Just then the mole lookout called out to the captain again, his voice sounding a touch more frantic this time.

"Captain! That ship is flying!"

"What?" the captain exclaimed in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, captain!"

Spyro looked back at Cynder, the foreboding sensation he had felt immediately justified, and by her expression he could tell that she was thinking the same thing he was. He had seen flying ships only once before, when he had been captured by pirates while searching for the Chronicler.

Seized by a sudden sense of urgency, Spyro pushed off from his perch and glided steeply down to the deck below, touching down heavily just a few feet from the large mole captain. Cynder followed right at his side.

"We have a problem," Spyro declared.

"I know," the captain replied gruffly. "The only ones known to use flying ships are those mangy pirate mutts. Before the Dark Master's return they were often known to prowl the waters just south of Warfang and try and loot merchant ships for supplies to use during their constant searches for combatants to use in their blasted arena fights. I've had the misfortune of running into them a couple of times."

"We've had our own experiences," Cynder said grimly.

"Captain!" the lookout shouted. "They've altered course! They're moving to intercept!"

"Well, this could get interesting," Mason commented, appearing by Spyro's side.

"They're actually going to attack us?" Spyro asked incredulously.

"It appears that way," the captain grunted.

"But we're not carrying anything of value," Spyro protested. "It would hardly be worth it for them to fight us."

"We're carrying you," Mason pointed out.

Spyro's eyes widened, feeling a sinking sensation in his gut.

"Maybe, but I for one am not letting them get hold of me again anytime soon," Cynder growled. "If they try, they're going to regret it."

"Alright, listen up everyone!" the captain bellowed, raising his voice to the loudest level Spyro had heard from him yet. "Let's get those crossbows unpacked and ready! Looks like we've got a battle on our hands!"

"To arms!" Mason called to his own guard moles. "Be ready!"

"What do we have to fight them with?" Cynder asked the captain, her inner tactician leaping into action.

"Not very much, I'm afraid," the mole replied grimly. "We're only a small merchant ship. When this ship was built, it was for speed to run away from fights, not for getting into them. As it is, all we've got is a pair of unfolding crossbows on the bow and amidships."

"That's it?" Cynder said incredulously. "But they've got _cannons_!"

"Can't we get close enough to Warfang for them to help?" Spyro asked.

"Not with the angle they're approaching from. They'll head us off well before we're in range of the city."

"Then what do we do?"

"We fight," the captain replied simply. "They won't sink us so long as they think we might have something valuable that they can get their filthy paws on, and when they try boarding us we'll fight back with everything we have. That's all we can do."

"How much damage will we be able to do with the crossbows?" Cynder asked.

"Not very much, I don't think. Normally we'd have pitch for lighting the bolt heads, which would make them far more dangerous to other ships, but we didn't bring any for this trip. It was just a short voyage to re-establish contact with the south, after all. Besides, their cannons outrange us by an enormous margin."

Spyro sighed, hanging his head with a feeling of unbearable helplessness. Here they were, within sight of Warfang, and they weren't even going to make it that far. They were either going to end up as cannon fodder, or rounded up to be pitted against each other in those horrible arena death matches. He couldn't decide which was worse. If only there was a way of making the crossbows' bolts more effective...

His head snapped up suddenly, the first glimmers of an idea forming within his mind. He looked at Cynder, and she caught the look in his eye and immediately became suspicious. While at first the idea seemed utterly outrageous, the more he thought about it the more he thought it would work. A grin began to form on his muzzle, and he turned to look up at the captain again.

"It's a good thing you have us, then."

The mole cocked and eyebrow at him suspiciously, glancing between him and Cynder.

"And just how do you plan on taking out an entire ship on your own when you yourself claim to be far from your full strength?"

"Yeah, Spyro," Cynder nodded, her expression sceptical. "How _do_ you plan on doing that?"

Spyro's grin grew wider, and he said to the captain, "Just get those crossbows ready. Come on, Cynder."

With the captain and Mason looking after him in bewilderment, Spyro descended the steps down to the main deck of the ship where moles were rushing about frantically to prepare for the coming battle. Near the main mast a trio of moles were working feverishly to unpack one of the two enormous crossbows the captain had mentioned, which until this point Spyro had thought were just piles of assorted spare timber. Now, however, he realized his mistake when he saw the large weapons taking shape right before his eyes. Soon they were fully set up and ready to fire, the moles swivelling them slowly to starboard and taking aim at the ship which was still barely more than a speck in the distance but growing rapidly. Spyro quickly stepped aside as a pair of moles hurried past carrying a bundle of enormous bolts over six feet long each on their shoulders and deposited them on the ground beside the massive crossbow. The moles working on the weapon promptly loaded one into firing position.

"So what exactly are you planning, Spyro?" Cynder asked again. "What can we do to fight a ship that has us outmatched in every way?"

"They don't have pitch," Spyro said, gesturing with a wing at the crossbow beside him. "But that doesn't mean they can't have fire."

The three moles arming the crossbow halted their work abruptly and stared at the purple dragon with wide eyes full of surprise, but their expressions quickly brightened.

"Of course," one of them murmured. "I'm sure if anyone can provide some firepower, the purple dragon can!"

"That's the idea," Spyro nodded.

"Okay, but that still doesn't change the fact that we can't come anywhere close to matching them in range," Cynder protested. "The fight will be all but over by the time we're close enough to fire a single shot!"

"I figured that's where you could come in," Spyro hinted.

Cynder faltered and narrowed her eyes questioningly at him. Then, all at once, her expression changed to one of wide-eyed realization. A dark grin quickly replaced the look of worry that had been on her face only a moment before.

"Now why didn't I think of that?" she chuckled.

Spyro merely shrugged and turned to the moles. "So? Do you think we can pull this off?"

"We'll certainly give it our best shot!" one of the moles replied, and Spyro was pleased to see that the anxiety in their demeanours had been replaced by a hopeful energy. "If it works, I can just imagine the look of surprise on their faces!"

Spyro smiled eagerly and turned to Cynder.

"How far do you think is the absolute most you can push the bolts?" he asked.

Cynder frowned in thought and gazed out over the sea water for a long moment. At last she gave a tense sigh.

"I'm not really sure. The farther away it gets, the harder it will be. If we can minimize the range it has to cross as much as possible it would help me a lot."

"We'll delay as long as we can," one of the moles assured her. "I'll go let the other crew know what the plan is."

He turned and hastened to the bow of the ship to let the other crossbow crew know what Spyro's plan was. Meanwhile Spyro and Cynder waited off to the side while more and more bolts were brought up from below decks, the moles making their final preparations for the battle that was looming ever closer. Though the dragons and moles took courage in Spyro's ambitious plan, the level of tension was nonetheless mounting rapidly. Only a few minutes later, Spyro heard the captain call out to him.

"Is there any chance you would like to share your plan with the rest of us?" he asked testily. "Or should I just hand over command of the vessel to you?"

"Just be ready to have the crossbows fire when Cynder and I give the signal," Spyro called back.

The captain scowled deeply and muttered something that Spyro wasn't able to hear, but that wasn't his primary concern at the moment. The enemy ship had grown close enough that he could make out many of the finer features now, including—to his growing dismay—the many open gun ports on its near side, the tips of cannons appearing through the holes in the side of the ship's hull, preparing to fire.

"They should be in range in no more than a few minutes," one of the moles manning the nearest crossbow said grimly. "And even one hit from those cannonballs could be disastrous for us."

"Cynder?" Spyro said with tension clear in his voice.

"It's still too far," she replied, her expression apologetic. "I might be able to get the bolt that far, but I seriously doubt it would hit anything."

Spyro gave a heavy sigh. "Then we wait."

"And when they start shooting at us?" the captain said irritably, overhearing their conversation.

"Cynder, do you think you can do anything about their cannonballs?" Spyro asked hopefully.

"I'll try," Cynder nodded, though it was clear that she wasn't happy about having to split her focus between assisting the mole's bolts and deflecting incoming fire.

A heavy silence descended over the ship as all the crew members, mole and dragon alike, waited for the inevitable first shot to be made. The flying pirate ship was drawing closer and closer, determined not to allow the fleeing merchant ship to reach the safety of the enormous dragon city that lay just on the horizon, apparently unaware of the danger that had befallen several dozen of its citizens. The pirate ship surged forward, as if eager to begin the fight to overpower its seemingly defenceless victim.

Then, a couple of minutes later, Spyro felt his insides knot with fear when he saw a bright flash from one of the cannon ports on the pirate ship. An instant later a dull _boom_ reached their ears, indicating that a weighty ball of metallic destruction was now hurtling toward them.

"Cynder..." Spyro muttered anxiously.

"I've got it," she assured him, though the tension was evident in her voice and expression as well.

A sudden gust of wind picked up seemingly from out of nowhere, and an instant later Spyro let out a startled yelp as a black streak whizzed low overhead. There was a tremendous splash in the water behind them as the cannonball impacted the sea, missing the ship by no more than a few metres.

"Cutting it a little close there?" Spyro asked.

"It's called conserving my energy," Cynder replied shortly. "I only deflected it enough to be certain it would miss us."

Two more deep reports from cannon fire echoed across the sea to them a moment later, and Spyro gulped nervously. He trusted Cynder to keep them safe from the incoming fire, but at the same time he worried that if the pirates fired too many cannonballs at once it would be too much for her to keep up with.

"Is this all part of your plan?" the captain snapped as the next two cannonballs splashed into the water, one on either side of the ship and much too close for comfort in Spyro's opinion.

Spyro didn't answer. Instead he turned to Cynder, who met his gaze and intuitively knew what he was asking.

"Closer," was the simple reply.

"Just get us closer to that ship, captain," Spyro called back. "We have this under control."

_I hope_, he added inwardly. After all, he was gambling with dozens of lives with this plan. But then again, there wasn't really anything in the way of alternatives.

"Almost there," Cynder grunted a moment later, her face set in a deep scowl of concentration as she continued to deflect the ever-increasing number of incoming cannonballs with her wind element.

"Alright, get ready!" Spyro announced to the crossbow crews.

The moles complied immediately, adjusting their aim to allow the crossbow bolts to fly the maximum possible distance once fired, though it seemed as though there was still no chance of the shots making it even halfway to their target at this point. At the same time Spyro stepped up beside the nearest crossbow before inhaling deeply and shooting out a focussed jet of blazing red flames. The fire swirled around the metal tip of the bolt before converging on it, turning the metal a bright orange-red from the heat. Spyro concentrated hard and focussed his fire into a concentrated point right at the tip of the bolt before cutting off the stream. When he stepped back and examined the head of the bolt he found that it was glowing brightly with red energy, as if illuminated from a blazing inferno on the inside.

"Are you sure that worked?" one of the moles asked him, noting the distinct lack of any actual flames on the bolt.

"It worked," Spyro said firmly. Even from where he stood, with his fire element he could easily feel the blazing power trapped within the bolt head, just waiting to be released. "Trust me."

He jumped as a sudden splash erupted just off the near side of the ship, drenching the railing and catching a number of squealing moles in the spray.

"Cynder?" Spyro asked again, much more insistently this time.

"Alright, now!" she announced, nodding her head sharply. "Fire it now!"

"But we're way too far out of range!" the captain protested. "That bolt will never make it! Just what do you two think you're paying at here?"

"Just fire the crossbow!" Spyro ordered the moles.

They nodded quickly and did as he said, retreating to safety behind the large wooden weapon before triggering the release. With a loud, deep twang, the crossbow unleashed it's bolt with tremendous speed.

At that exact same instant a sudden jet of wind surged in from the west and nearly knocked the three moles off their feet as it converged on the speeding bolt, instantly rocketing it to unimaginable speeds until all that was visible of it was a streak of orange light from its tip as it raced through the sky. Spyro watched it in anxious anticipation as it flew through the air, crossing the distance between them and the pirates in no more than a couple of seconds. It appeared as though Cynder's aim was dead on as the bolt sped toward the bow of the larger ship.

The instant the tip of the bolt made contact, all the contained energy Spyro had poured into it erupted in a massive fiery explosion that caused all the moles—and even Spyro himself—to jump back in surprise and shock. The pirate ship rocked from the force of the blast, a roiling ball of flames and smoke curling up into the sky. The thunderous roar of the blast reached them only a split-second later, causing many of the moles to wince from the volume. When the smoke cleared a moment later Spyro could easily see the charred hole that had been left in the ship's hull, as well as the numerous small fires that had started within. After a brief moment of stunned silence, every single mole on the merchant ship cheered ecstatically.

"Reload!" Spyro called to the three moles manning the crossbow that had just been fired before charging as fast as his legs could carry him toward the bow of the ship where the second crossbow sat ready to be fired, awaiting only his fire to proceed. "Don't let up!"

Within moments he had breathed a second focused stream of fire into the head of the waiting bolt before retreating to a safe distance. Then, just as with the first, the bolt was fired amidst a brutal gust of wind and rocketed away toward the pirate vessel, whose crew was no doubt still recovering from the shock of the first unexpected attack and totally unprepared for the incoming shot.

***.*.***

"You want me to _what_?"

Hunter's expression was impassive as he gazed steadily back at a dumbfounded Sparx, who happened to be the source of the sharp outburst. The dragonfly, meanwhile, was gaping at Hunter as if he had just declared he could fly.

"You're kidding, right?" Sparx said a moment later. "You don't seriously want me to _hunting_ with you?"

"Why not?" Hunter replied inquisitively.

"Um, let's see, because it involves _hunting_!" Sparx declared emphatically. "What in the world makes you think that I would ever want to do that?"

"It was merely a suggestion," the cheetah shrugged. "I was of the opinion that you might enjoy the distraction. Hunting, after all, is an incredibly engaging experience, with its mix of patience, strategy, skill and the thrill of the chase."

"Oh, yeah, the chase," Sparx snorted with over-exaggerated enthusiasm. "Like I want to watch you chasing down some defenceless creature so you can put an arrow through it. Yeah, fun."

Hunter arched a brow. "You disapprove of my killing for food?"

Sparx looked away and made a vague, uncertain noise, rubbing the back of his head uncomfortably.

"And what about when your brother does it? Do you think less of him then?"

"What, Spyro? No, no, I don't."

"I didn't think so," Hunter said, shaking his head and crossing his arms. "And I'm sure he enjoys the hunt just as much as I do."

"Well, hey, you don't have to ruin my image of the guy!" Sparx cut in with an alarmed tone. "What, you think it was an easy thing to get over growing up when Spyro comes home one day carrying the first rodent he's ever caught?" Sparx shuddered violently. "Oh, yeah, Mom and Dad were so proud. Junior's first kill. Happy day."

Hunter frowned while Sparx made a disgusted face, trying to suppress the unwanted memory of his parents' alarmed expressions when they were hit with the realization that their adopted child was of a predatory nature. Spyro may have believed he was a dragonfly, but his natural instincts couldn't be ignored either.

"Look, I get it, alright?" Sparx said finally. "It's just you guys' nature. You can't help it. But thankfully, Spyro's never felt the need to include me on his little 'outings', and I can't say I'm all that eager to start with you either. I prefer denial."

Hunter's expression softened. A smile began to lift the corners of his mouth, as if he were amused by this particular inner turmoil that Sparx had to confront concerning his brother.

"I understand," he said. "I was not trying to make you uncomfortable. I only thought you might enjoy getting out of the city for a little while. You haven't done anything except mope around the temple for over a week now."

Sparx crossed his arms stubbornly and glanced around at the decorative rooftop garden that dominated the southern side of the temple's upper levels, containing a diverse assortment of flora from all across the continent, all bordered by intricate stone walkways and all meticulously arranged and maintained by the moles.

"I like it here," he said simply.

Hunter chuckled and kneeled down so that his eyes were on a more even level with his tiny friend.

"I understand that you want to be here when Spyro returns, but it has been more than a month, Sparx. You cannot wait forever."

"What are you saying?" Sparx exclaimed, a jolt of panic shooting through him at those words. "You think he's not coming back?"

"No, no, not at all!" Hunter said quickly, holding up his paws in a defensive and apologetic gesture. "But it seems to me that you can't put your life on hold indefinitely because of worry for your brother. I am certain that he will eventually return, but you have your own life to live in the meantime."

Sparx said nothing as he hovered uncomfortably in place, avoiding the gaze of the cheetah and instead gazing distantly over the sea to the south, deep in his own thoughts.

"Look at it this way," Hunter added, trying a different tactic. "Would Spyro want you to put off living your own life just because he wasn't here? How do you know he isn't just off somewhere taking a well-earned vacation? He probably thinks you're doing the same."

"But Spyro and I have always done everything together!" Sparx protested. "He wouldn't just run off somewhere without me. Not without telling me first, at least."

Hunter merely shrugged. "If you say so. However, I still think he would want you to spend this time enjoying our new peace instead of worrying constantly about him. He can take care of himself, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Sparx grumbled. "I just wish that I knew—"

He was cut short when a distant rumbling sound reached them from somewhere far to the south. Sparx jumped at the unexpected noise and spun around in the air, squinting into the distance in an attempt to determine where the disturbance had come from.

"Smoke," Hunter remarked with a greatly surprised tone only an instant later, his keen eyes easily piercing across the expansive distance that caused Sparx such trouble.

"Really?" Sparx said, squinting harder.

He started again when, just on the horizon, he saw a couple of dim flashes of light come from a large blurry shape that seemed to hang strangely just above the horizon, the flashes followed a moment later by a couple of low rumbles that Sparx found oddly familiar, though they were nowhere near as loud as the noise that had first caught their attention.

"And cannon fire," Hunter reported. "It seems that there is some kind of trouble out there."

Suddenly, from a smaller shape just to the west of the larger one, a streak of orange light shot through the air with unbelievable speed. When it reached the larger unknown object there was a brilliant flash of light accompanied by a massive fiery explosion, a deep rumble echoing across the city a moment later.

"Whoa!" Sparx yelped, jolting backward in shock. "What was _that_?"

"I have no idea," Hunter replied tensely. "But it looks like trouble. We should inform the guardians."

"Right, good idea," Sparx nodded vigorously. "You do that, and I'll keep watch from up here."

Hunter made a face somewhere between an amused smirk and a scowl before turning sharply about and dashing back inside the temple to find the guardians. Once he'd gone, Sparx turned to peer anxiously back out over the sea, wincing as another streak of light sped through the air followed by another terrible explosion.

"Oh, where's Spyro when you need him?"

***.*.***

"Master Spyro, we need you over here!"

Spyro suppressed an exasperated groan before tilting his head back and breathing out yet another wave of flame at the head of the bolt that the moles had only just loaded into the forward crossbow of the ship. Then he spun around and charging breathlessly for the second crossbow, where the crew of moles was waiting anxiously for his arrival.

"Incoming!" a voice called out suddenly.

Spyro gave a startled cry as the deck below his paws lurched violently at the same time that the far railing of the deck further toward the back of the ship splintered under the impact of a cannonball. He crashed painfully to the deck, sliding a number of feet along the rough wood surface before striking the base of the crossbow and coming to an abrupt halt.

"Are you alright?" one of the nearby moles asked anxiously, bending over to help the purple dragon to his feet.

"Fine," Spyro grunted. "Move back."

The mole nodded quickly and complied. As soon as he was a safe distance away Spyro craned his neck up to charge up the tip of the new bolt with his fire breath. Only a moment later he ducked his head down as the moles released the shot, Cynder's wind speeding it forward with pinpoint accuracy. Barely two seconds after it had been fired the bolt slammed straight into the centre of the pirate ship's hull, sending up a devastating explosion. All but a few of the pirates' cannons had been disabled by this point by the explosive bolts, but nonetheless the cannonballs continued to rain down on the merchants with such frequency that Cynder was having an extremely difficult time deflecting them all. Still, when Spyro saw the way that most of the side of the ship was enshrouded in a curtain of flame, he couldn't help but feel a swell of triumph.

"Cynder!" he exclaimed excitedly as he took off running for the forward crossbow once again.

"Not a good time, Spyro," Cynder growled tensely from where she stood in the centre of the ship's deck, her entire body rigid and her fangs gritted in a snarl of stress and concentration as she struggled to control so many different streams of wind at once.

"But it's working!"

"Still not a good time!"

As if to reinforce her point, the ship was rocked again as another cannonball clipped the top of the main mast, sending splinters of wood raining down on the moles below. Spyro immediately sobered when he realized that, while they had already done devastating damage to the enemy ship, they were far from out of danger. So far the pirates had succeeded only in making a few glancing hits against the merchants, entirely thanks to Cynder's defensive windscreen, but Spyro knew it was only a matter of time at this rate before one of the metal projectiles slipped through to strike a lethal blow. They needed to end this fight, and quickly.

"Master Spyro!" a mole called insistently. "We have another bolt ready over here!"

"Just hang on one second!" Spyro shouted back. "I'm going as fast as I can!"

Groaning wearily, he forced his legs to carry him back toward the rearward crossbow at as rapid a pace as he could manage, his limbs beginning to feel like they were weighed down with lead. He had been running incessantly back and forth for what felt like hours now, trying to keep up with the moles' reloading so that the crew could maintain a steady rate of fire against the pirates. Now the constant running in combination with the frequent use of his fire breath was rapidly taking a toll on him. Though over the past few days he had been feeling considerably better than he had before, it was all too apparent now that he was still far from fully recovered. Cynder's stamina was considerably better, but at the same time she had a considerably more difficult task to perform, and it appeared that she was beginning to weaken as well. He was becoming afraid that they wouldn't be able to keep up this pace long enough to defeat the pirates unless they got lucky very soon.

Unfortunately, instead of improving their luck suddenly took a massive turn for the worse. After another bolt from the merchant ship destroyed a cluster of the last surviving cannons on the near side of the pirates' vessel, the pirates decided to change their tactic. Seeing as the smaller ship had long since drifted to a halt due to Cynder's channelling all the available wind toward the pirates instead of its previous course toward Warfang, the pirate vessel no longer needed to move to keep its target in range. Instead it began rotating to the left, and Spyro felt his blood turn to ice when the ship's right side came into view, bristling with several fresh rows of cannons ready to fire.

"Cover!" the mole captain bellowed when he too realized the threat. "Get down!"

No sooner were the words past his mouth than a thunderous pounding drowned out all other sounds, every single cannon on the pirate ship firing within the span of a couple of seconds in a devastating broadside attack. Spyro watched helplessly as the dozens of cannonballs sailed toward them, knowing in that moment that there was no way Cynder was going to be able to deflect them all. Instinctively he ducked down low to the deck and shielded himself with a wing, awaiting the inevitable destruction.

Somehow, Cynder managed to deflect all but three of the incoming projectiles. Still, those that did manage to get through were enough to do considerable damage. The first slammed directly into the centre of the forward crossbow, shattering the large weapon instantaneously and sending two of the three moles manning it flying back across the deck amidst a shower of splintered wood. The second tore a hole in the back corner of the ship, laying open the captain's cabin but not presenting any threat of sinking the ship. The third, however, was the worst of all. It ploughed into the centre of the ship's deck, tearing the ship open along its centreline like a gash from an enormous dragon's talon. Spyro stiffened as dozens of jagged shards of wood pounded against his scales, opening several small wounds in his flank and shoulders. However, the pain in his body was completely forgotten once the cannonball passed him by and instead reached the point of the ship where Cynder was standing.

"Cynder!" Spyro shouted in horror as the deck below her feet was ripped apart by the passing cannonball, obscuring her from his view in an instant. When the debris cleared there was no sign of her where she had just been standing, and Spyro searched about frantically for her but was unable to locate the dragoness.

A soft splash caught his attention, and he spun around to face westward at the sound. As if compelled by some unseen force he raced over to the splintered railing and looked over the edge at the roiling sea below, his eyes scanning desperately for any sign of survivors. At first he saw nothing, and the first twinge of despair began to constrict his chest when suddenly he thought he saw a flash of black and magenta against the deep blue water. He lost it almost immediately, but was able to locate it again only an instant later, his eyes falling on the still form of a black-scaled head, neck, shoulder, and a single bright wing bobbing above the surface amongst the waves.

"Cynder!" he called desperately, hoping she would stir. But to his dismay, instead of answering she suddenly sank limply beneath the surface of the water.

He didn't think; he just leapt. Ignoring the shouts of protest from the moles, he pounded his wings frantically until he had reached the point where he had last seen her body. Then, without the slightest hesitation he beat his wings hard backward, streamlining his body and shooting like an arrow into the cold, salty waters, vanishing without a trace beneath the rolling waves.

Within the murky depths it was nearly impossible to see more than a couple of metres ahead, but Spyro was far from helpless to locate his companion. Thinking quickly, he emitted a weak electrical charge from his body into the salty water. In this fashion it only took him an instant to locate the interruption in the electrical flow below him that could only be Cynder's body, sinking slowly lower into the depths. After freezing time so that she wouldn't sink any farther, Spyro beat his wings hard to propel himself rapidly down through the water until her dark form came into sight ahead of him. Ignoring the way his lungs screamed for air and the massive drain on his power, he swam down to her, grabbed her around the middle with a foreleg and beat his wings furiously toward the surface, shooting rapidly upward toward the shimmering sunlight that drew ever closer. They broke the surface only a second later amidst a tremendous spray of water.

"Over here, Master Spyro!" a voice called out the moment he reappeared above the surface. "Over here! Quickly."

Blinking salt water from his eyes, Spyro flapped his wings laboriously in the direction of the voice, collapsing wearily on the deck of the ship a moment later gasping for air.

"Is she...okay?" he moaned, watching anxiously as the mole that had called him over checked to see if the dragoness was breathing.

There was no need for the mole to answer, for at that moment Cynder's body convulsed suddenly, a loud, wet cough bursting from her throat before she rolled over and proceeded to retch on the deck, her body struggling to expel the accumulated water from her windpipe. This was followed by a fit of choking. Spyro was on his feet in an instant, all his weariness forgotten as he rushed to her side.

"Cynder, are you alright?" he demanded, resting a steadying forepaw on her back.

"I think so," she gasped weakly, her whole body trembling from the cold and stress it had just endured. "Thanks."

Spyro flinched as another cannonball splashed into the water just a few feet from the side of the ship, his mind reeling with fear and adrenaline as the mole crew members raced frantically about, fighting desperately to control damage to the ship, assist injured fellow crewmen and pull overboard moles back onto the ship, all while trying to stay under cover from the unending barrage of cannonballs the pirates were lobbing in their direction. The pirates' situation was clearly a dire one, raging flames eating away at their stricken vessel, but with only one crossbow remaining and severe damage to all parts of the ship it seemed as if any chance the moles had of surviving the battle had just slipped away from them, regardless of how their foes were faring.

"We only have one bolt left, captain!" a mole called out in a hopeless tone. "We lost the rest from that last hit! There's no way we can fight them off now!"

"Stand firm!" the captain snapped. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I intend to keep fighting to the very last! Dragon, if you were going to have any other brilliant ideas, now would be a good time!"

Spyro gazed helplessly about their crippled vessel, searching desperately for any means of combating the pirates that he hadn't considered already, but there seemed to be no source of hope in sight. He was painfully aware of the entire crew watching him expectantly, but he couldn't see how he was going to save them now. They were helpless in the water. The only positive thing that he could see at that moment was the fact that despite the heavy damage it had sustained the ship wasn't yet sinking, though that would likely change quite rapidly if the pirates' barrage wasn't stopped. However, to his surprise, it was Cynder who suddenly broke the tense silence.

"Alright, I've had about enough of this," she snarled, rising shakily to her feet. "Come on, Spyro."

"What?" Spyro said in surprise as she began advancing toward the starboard side of the ship, the side facing the pirates. "What are you doing?"

"Ending this," Cynder replied simply, her expression hard and her normally bright emerald eyes now burning with a threatening edge. "Your plan was a good opener, but now these damn mutts have really ticked me off. Now help me out here."

Spyro watched in bewilderment as she came to a stop at the head of their only remaining crossbow, which the moles had already loaded with the last of the ship's bolts. Rearing up on her hind legs, she placed her forepaws against the broad metallic head and closed her eyes in deep concentration. A moment later Spyro gasped in surprise as her body suddenly began emitting a dark violet aura, bolts of purple energy crackling across her scales and collecting along her forelegs. The tip of the bolt soon began to glow with the dark purple of convexity as Cynder forced more and more energy into the projectile.

Catching on, Spyro reared up as well and channelled what remained of his power into the bolt, combining his convexity energy with Cynder's until the bolt was nearly ready to combust from the sheer amount of power the two dragons had forced into it. Finally they dropped as one back to the deck and hurriedly backed away, leaving the tip of the bolt crackling with menacing violet bolts of energy.

"Alright, fire it!" Cynder ordered. "And whatever you do, don't miss!"

The moles complied as fast as they possibly could as more cannonballs continued to rain down around the ship, some coming dangerously close to punching through their weakened hull while others gradually chipped away at the upper decks, threatening to reduce their ship into a mass of broken timber at any moment. However, to their credit, the moles never panicked and instead took the time necessary to ensure their aim was true. Then, after giving a final nod to Cynder, the mole leading the crossbow crew released the bolt.

Mustering whatever strength she had left, Cynder focussed all her wind element into creating a single, narrow jet of air that propelled the bolt to a speed greater than any of the bolts before it. It reached its target in less than a second, plunging straight into the hardened wood hull of the ship and unleashing all its pent-up energy in an instant.

The resulting blast was spectacular and terrifying to behold. The very air around the explosion's centre seemed to warp as the tremendous amounts of energy were unleashed in a massive, crackling shockwave of violet energy that tore the pirate ship open as if its hull was made of parchment. The explosion was accompanied by a terrible, unearthly roar that nearly deafened every single mole and dragon on the merchant ship, and Spyro staggered as the shockwave reached him. When the smoke and crackling energy dispersed, Spyro was stunned to see half of the ship had been completely obliterated while the remainder was splitting apart even as he watched, the entire wrecked vessel tumbling slowly out of the sky to crash into the churning waves below.

For several long moments an utter silence pressed down on the merchant ship. Then, all at once, the entire crew erupted in deafening, jubilant cheering. Spyro, meanwhile, gave an enormous sigh from a swell of relief unlike any he had felt before and collapsed, exhausted, onto the deck. Cynder did likewise beside him. He turned his head toward her and offered a wry smirk.

"Remind me never to make you angry," he panted.

Cynder laughed weakly. "Oh, come on. I'm not that scary, am I?"

Spyro pretended to gulp nervously and avert his gaze, and Cynder responded with an indignant exclamation and punched him playfully on the shoulder with a forepaw. He winced from the pain but laughed anyway, and Cynder smirked.

"You were great, by the way," he told her after a brief pause.

Her smirk softened into a tender smile. "Well it was your plan."

"Just a little too subtle for you, huh?"

Cynder laughed again, harder this time. "Maybe a little."

Another moment passed in silence between them, and in that time Spyro felt a tremendous rush of relief and happiness for the fact that the battle was over, but more importantly that Cynder was unharmed.

The moment was broken, however, when the mole sailors swarmed in on them, still cheering and laughing as loudly as ever. Spyro yelped in surprise as he was suddenly hoisted off of the deck up onto the moles' shoulders, and he was aware of Cynder's gleeful laughter as he was paraded about the deck like a triumphant hero who had singlehandedly won the day for them. He noticed that even the captain couldn't help but smirk at his crew's antics, no matter how briefly. All too soon though he stepped forward and raised his voice to be heard over the celebration.

"Alright, step to now!" he bellowed. "Those pirates might be down but Warfang's still quite a ways off, and I would rather reach the docks before we have to swim the rest of the way! Now get a move on! Trim those sails and let's get underway!"

Spyro was promptly dropped to the deck of the ship as the crowd of moles dispersed, rushing about to get the ship ready to resume their journey. Using only half the ship's sails so that the strain didn't crack the weakened hull right down the middle, they slowly eased the ship ahead until it was riding across the waves at a steady pace, Warfang growing ever larger ahead. Spyro, meanwhile, shakily picked himself up off the deck and made his way slowly back to the upper deck at the rear of the ship before sinking wearily down against the wood again, his utter exhaustion finally getting the better of him. Cynder sat herself down by his side and placed a comforting paw on his shoulder while Mason approached them from the other side.

"That was quite the inspired plan, young dragons!" he praised them approvingly. "Well done. Well done indeed."

"Thank you," Spyro gasped with a grateful smile.

"I suppose you both have earned a rest," the captain grunted. "After all, it's thanks to you that we even still have a ship. Relax. We'll be reaching Warfang shortly."

He was right. In only a matter of minutes they had crossed half the remaining distance to the city, at which point it became apparent that their battle at sea had attracted the attention of most of the city's residents. Even from this distance Spyro could see moles and dragons flooding down to the docks to investigate the commotion, a number of dragons taking to the air and circling above the ship, marvelling at the damage it had sustained. Spyro noted that it didn't take these dragons long to spot him and Cynder on the deck, at which point their eyes would bug out in shock before they wheeled about in the air and charged back for the city to spread the news. By the time the ship approached the docks, Spyro could hear cheering rising from the gathered crowd.

"Welcome back," Cynder snorted with a large grin.

Spyro was unable to reply, caught off guard by the city's reaction to their unexpected arrival. Never had he imagined that his and Cynder's simple arrival at Warfang would be enough to cause this kind of a joyous uproar. Not even after fighting in the defence of the city and defeating the golem had anyone reacted like this to their presence, and as such Spyro now had no idea how he should react. While a small part of him felt like it wasn't actually all that surprising—he had defeated the Dark Master and saved the entire world from destruction, after all—a much larger part of him felt like there was no way on earth that he deserved this kind of attention.

"Well don't just sit there," Cynder laughed when the ship was finally secured to the docks and the boarding ramp lowered. "The guardians are probably waiting somewhere in there. We should go."

"Um...right," Spyro said hesitantly, although he wasn't sure if his body would be able to obey, feeling locked in place by his uncertainty.

When he didn't move, Cynder rolled her eyes with an emphatic sigh and roughly shoved him forward.

"Honestly, you're too humble," she scolded him playfully. "Face it, Spyro. You're a hero. Now come on and enjoy it a little!"

Though still feeling far from sure of himself, Spyro nonetheless followed as the first of the mole crewmembers rapidly descended the ramp to the docks to mingle amongst the cheering crowd of moles that had already gathered below. As if by some unspoken command, Mason's squad of guards suddenly appeared ahead of the two dragons, forming a sort of wedge formation that almost had the feeling of a security escort, and Spyro looked at Cynder in surprise only to see her chuckling to herself at this unexpected development. Mason soon joined up with them, walking just ahead of Spyro and Cynder while they descended the ramp.

"I figured you would be eager to get to the temple where you might find some peace," Mason explained over his shoulder when he noticed Spyro's confused expression. "Left on your own, I expect it would be hours before you managed to force your way through this crowd, and by the looks of you it would be best if we got you someplace where you can rest as soon as possible, eh?"

Spyro couldn't help but chuckled lightly at that, for he did indeed feel like he might topple over at any moment. He hadn't felt this thoroughly drained since he had first regained momentary consciousness in the valley with Cynder—well, maybe that was an exaggeration, he thought to himself. Nonetheless, the idea of a prolonged nap in the temple sounded all too inviting, and all at once his gratitude for the mole escorts multiplied tenfold.

Even with the moles clearing the way for the two of them it took several minutes just to reach the main pier, at which point they were still only about halfway to the actual shore. Warfang's wall loomed high overhead, even on this side, but the southern gate was wide open and moles and dragons were still flocking through it to see for themselves if the rumours of the purple dragon's return were indeed true. As they slowly made their way forward, Mason and his guards shouting for the citizens to clear a path, Spyro gazed around at the crowd with a surreal expression plastered on his face, feeling utterly overwhelmed by the sheer volume and enthusiasm of the crowd.

_This can't really all be for us, can it?_ he wondered incredulously.

When he glanced over at Cynder, however, he saw that she was enjoying the animated welcome to no end, a broad smile stretched across her features and her eyes sparkling joyfully. He could hardly imagine how this would feel for her, hated and feared for so many years but now welcomed to the great dragon city like a hero. And while he still bore reservations about whether or not he had truly deserved this kind of credit and recognition, there was no doubt in his mind that Cynder certainly did, and he had never felt happier for her.

Several long minutes later the small procession had finally reached the stone roadway that led up to the city's gates, and now that the crowd wasn't so tightly packed together progress was much easier. However, just as he was about to resume walking for the gates, Spyro thought he heard a familiar call carrying over the thunder of hundreds of excited voices. Puzzled, he looked around as the sound grew steadily louder.

"Spyro?" Cynder said when she noticed him stop. "What is it?"

"I thought I heard something," the purple dragon replied, still scanning the crowd intently.

He was just about to dismiss the noise as his imagination, but just then it came again and this time Cynder also perked up at the sound. Frowning in concentration, Spyro strained to make out the voice.

"Spyyyyrooooooo!" came the distant cry, which was still rapidly growing in volume.

Spyro looked up over the city's wall, and it was then that he finally caught sight of the source of the cry. A small pinprick of golden light was speeding toward him like a miniature shooting star, clearly the source of the joyous cry. Realizing who it was, Spyro's eyes widened in surprise.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed just as the light came streaking right for him. An instant later Sparx had flown full-tilt right into the side of Spyro's neck, impacting with such unexpected force that Spyro was actually knocked over sideways, landing roughly on his side on the cobblestone roadway.

"Spyro, you're back!" Sparx cried out joyfully, his voice almost sounding like a sob. "You're alive, and you came back! I knew you would come back!"

"Sparx!" Spyro laughed, a swell of warmth growing in his heart at this unexpected reunion with his brother. "Of course I came back! It's good to see you."

"Good to see you too, bro!" Sparx said cheerfully. Then he released his vice-like grip on the dragon's neck and turned toward Cynder. "And you! You kept your promise! I knew you would!"

Cynder's eyes bugged out in shock when Sparx suddenly zipped forward and hugged her around the neck just as he had with Spyro, and Spyro couldn't help but burst out laughing at her stunned expression. Her entire body had gone rigid as she stared down disbelievingly at the insect clinging to her scales. It seemed as though a moment later Sparx finally clued into what he was doing, however, and he hurriedly released his hold and placed several feet of separation between them.

"I mean, I was pretty sure you would," he stammered quickly, looking sheepishly away. "Well, sorta. I mean, you know, there wasn't really a whole lot of choice in the whole matter, so..." He cleared his throat forcibly. "That was a little weird. You wanna just forget that ever happened?"

"Fine by me," Cynder said immediately, though with a hint of a grin.

"Great!" Sparx exclaimed with a large sigh of relief. "It'll just stay between you, me, and a few hundred witnesses then. Good. Oh, and by the way, I just remembered..."

He turned around so that he was facing Spyro again, who was only then beginning to pick himself up off the ground. For a moment he just smiled at his brother. Then, in the blink of an eye, his entire demeanour changed.

"I am going to _kill_ you for being gone so long!" he snapped, levelling an accusing finger at the purple dragon, and Spyro started and nearly stumbled again from the sudden shout. "Do you have any idea how worried I was, going for a _month_ with no sign at all from you? I thought that something absolutely terrible must have happened to you! Don't ever do that again!"

"I'm sorry!" Spyro stammered, reeling from his brother's sudden and uncharacteristic anger. "I would have come back sooner if I could!"

"Yeah, it's not his fault," Cynder cut in. "You should be glad he's back at all, considering the condition he was in after pulling the world back together. He almost died!"

Sparx's eyes widened considerably at that, and he spent a moment in stunned silence looking back and forth between the two of them. Then he let out a loud groan and brought a hand to his brow.

"Oh, that does not make me feel any better," he moaned. "I can't take it; it's too much. Spyro, just don't do that again, okay? You're killing me..."

"Alright, Sparx," Spyro said reassuringly, grinning. "I won't."

Sparx heaved a massive sigh of relief before shooting forward and hugging his brother again. When he finally released the purple dragon he floated up to hover just above his brother's head as he always had before. Feeling contentment in the familiar company of his brother once again, Spyro returned his attention forward just as another deep call carried over the crowd.

"Move aside!" the voice ordered firmly. "Make some room, please!"

The crowd ahead rapidly parted, the sound of their cheering strangely fading as an unseen party drew nearer. Then the last moles and dragons standing ahead of Spyro and his companions moved aside to reveal three large dragons and a cheetah striding toward them. Spyro felt a surge of surprise when he saw them, but the feeling was then immediately replaced by joy.

"Tarrador!" he exclaimed happily. "Cyril, Volteer, Hunter!"

Terrador laughed warmly as he gazed down at the smaller dragons, a broad smile on his strong features. "Spyro, Cynder, it brings me great comfort to see you both alive and well. With your prolonged absence, we were beginning to fear the worst, but it is a great relief to be proven wrong."

"We're sorry," Spyro said sheepishly. "We didn't mean to make anyone worry. We tried to come back as soon as we could—"

"Now, now, there's no need for shame young dragons," Cyril cut in with a raised paw. "What matters is that you're both safe and have returned to us now."

"Oh, yes, absolutely!" Volteer added excitedly, and Spyro and Cynder couldn't help but smirk at the guardian's usual over-enthusiasm. "This is positively delightful, spectacular, wonderful, astonishing—"

"Volteer, really," Cyril groaned. "Spare the young ones. They've only just got back."

"Oh yes, of course," Volteer nodded, appearing quite ashamed. "Yes, yes, of course..."

"We can hardly blame him," Terrador chuckled. "This is indeed a most unexpected but truly welcome surprise." He turned to smile down at the two young dragons again, and Spyro smiled broadly back. "And what a surprise it was, I have to say. You two certainly know how to make an entrance."

Spyro and Cynder exchanged sheepish grins.

"Well, it worked," Cynder said with a shrug. "I doubt any pirates are going to try to mess with a ship from Warfang again after that."

"Indeed not," Terrador laughed. "The two of you certainly showed them. But enough of that; you're all safe, the wounded are being tended to already from what I can see, repairs to the ship will be underway shortly, and it looks as if there are already dragons searching for survivors out on the water. The situation is well in hand. Come, let's retreat to the privacy of the temple. I for one would like to hear everything that has occurred since we parted ways a month ago."

With that he turned in place to begin the return journey through the streets of Warfang to the temple high above them, the other guardians following him closely. Hunter paused long enough to offer Spyro a smile to indicate he was glad to see him again before following as well.

Spyro paused for a short moment longer, gazing up at the massive wall and the proud buildings of the city beyond, feeling a swell of joy to finally be back in the dragon city, reunited with his friends. Cynder noticed his expression and nuzzled him gently under his jaw to get his attention.

"We made it," she said, smiling warmly.

Spyro returned the smile. "We did."

Cynder then motioned with her head toward the gate. "Maybe we should get going. They're leaving us behind."

"Oh, right!" Spyro stammered, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Let's go."

"About time," Sparx commented as the two young dragons hurried to catch up to the guardians before the crowd could cut them off.

Spyro smirked, and he glanced sidelong at Cynder to see her roll her eyes in exasperation again before turning a wry grin in his direction. As they walked through the crowded streets she shifted closer to him, and Spyro's smile grew.

"So..." Sparx grunted a couple of minutes later, and Spyro turned to see him hovering along beside him with a slight frown on his features and a brow raised questioningly. "Are you two feeling alright and all?"

"Yes," Cynder replied, nodding. "Why?"

"Oh, I don't know," Sparx said slowly, never taking his eyes off them. "You just keep looking at each other all funny and stuff."

"Really?" Spyro asked innocently, at the same time resting a wing across Cynder's back. She giggled with amusement. "What do you mean, Sparx?"

Up ahead the guardians and Hunter glanced back at the two of them before exchanging amused, knowing grins and chuckling. Sparx was oblivious to this.

"I mean you two are acting really weird right now. It's kind of freaking me out, to be honest. So you don't notice anything?"

Spyro pretended to think about it for a moment, glancing down and biting a lip before shrugging and shaking his head.

"No. Are you sure _you're_ feeling alright, Sparx?"

"I think he's losing it," Cynder declared before resting her head against Spyro's neck.

"Yeah, Sparx, I don't think either of us have any idea what you're talking about," Spyro said firmly. "You're imagining things."

Sparx glared at them both and looked like he was just about to make some kind of protest when all of a sudden he stopped himself, as if blind-sided by realization. His eyes went wide and his jaw hung slack in disbelief as he stared dumbly at the pair.

"No..." he gasped weakly. "No, it's not true. Spyro, buddy, you two aren't..."

The only reply Spyro could manage was a goofy grin.

"Oh, come on!" Sparx exclaimed, making a face that was filled with equal parts disgust and horror. "Awww, man, really? Spyro, you're just pulling some kind of gag on me, right? Just messing with your brother after being away from him so long? Tell me that's it."

"I'm afraid not, Sparx," Spyro chuckled.

"Awww..." the dragonfly moaned. "You can't be serious! _Her_? Oh, man, this nightmare is just never going to end, is it? And it was turning into such a good day, too..."

Spyro couldn't help but laugh at his brother's dismay, and up ahead the guardians were chuckling quietly amongst themselves as well. Cynder, meanwhile, was shooting Sparx an evil-looking grin, and Spyro got the sneaking suspicion that her new favourite pass-time was going to be aggravating the dragonfly at every opportunity. He knew he should probably feel guilty for bringing this upon his brother—after all, it had always been obvious he was far from Cynder's biggest fan—but he couldn't manage anything other than gleeful amusement at Sparx's expense. He would just have to make sure to keep an eye on those two.

In this fashion the mixed procession reached the temple grounds several minutes later as the city was swept by renewed celebrations. Before entering the temple, Spyro turned around to gaze out over the jubilant city, feeling an inner peace and happiness that he had longed for since discovering what he truly was three years ago.

He was home.

***.*.***

While nearly every mole and dragon from Warfang gathered on the docks to celebrate the return of their two missing heroes, there was one who chose instead to watch from a distance.

Nexus peered out cautiously from behind the cover of a shore-side storage building surrounded by short, thickly-leaved trees that created a patch of almost complete darkness, perfect for a young dragon to find cover under while still offering an excellent view of the docks beyond. As he crouched there behind the building, scarcely daring to move, he could see his target and his entourage making their way up the cobblestone pathway that led from the docks to the city gate.

Seeing him now, so close an in person, sent a rush of confusing emotions through the young purple dragon. On the one hand, he was now looking at the only dragon alive that he could claim to have any kind of bond to, even if it was only a tenuous connection and one that Spyro himself wasn't even aware of. Because of this Nexus felt a strange sort of excitement. His fellow purple dragon, the one he had spent his entire life watching, admiring and envying, was now only a few dozen metres away from him, almost within his reach. He had never imagined he would be this close.

However, on the other hand, he was also looking at a traitor. While Spyro may have accomplished the mission he had been sent into this world to carry out, now he had turned his back on his master and was determined to forge his own path. In doing so, he had earned himself the anger of the most powerful dragon that had ever existed and had created a problem that Nexus now had to clean up. Of course he was completely unaware of any of this, but regardless it filled Nexus with a swell of bitterness whenever he thought about it.

But foremost of all, Nexus felt a nearly uncontainable exhilaration. It was entirely thanks to Spyro that he was in this world at all, graced with an unparalleled opportunity to prove his ability, strength and cunning to his master. Nexus had always enjoyed a challenge, and thanks to Spyro he was now presented with the greatest challenge he had ever had to face; how to make a hero, loved and respected, forsake his current life in favour of an existence of servitude, but of unmatched power as well. It was a question that had dominated the young purple dragon's mind for the last month, and one he was determined to find a solution to, no matter what it took. For the past couple of days, completely unbeknownst to Spyro, Nexus had been studying his target intently, trying to determine his strengths and weaknesses, his motivations and his flaws. However, it was that day's battle at sea and the triumphant return to Warfang that had provided Nexus with the first answers he had been seeking.

"So," Nexus muttered thoughtfully to himself as he watched Spyro pass through Warfang's enormous gate, Cynder right by his side and the guardians around him. "You draw your strength from the support of your friends." A dark grin began to form on his muzzle, and with a quiet chuckle he rose to his feet and turned away from the docks, walking deeper into the shadows. "I think I just found your weakness, Spyro ol' pal."

Once he was certain that no one would be able to see, Nexus drew to a stop and summoned up deep reserves of his power before slashing a forepaw through the air in front of him. As if he had torn through the very fabric of space around him, a small, swirling portal of purple and white energy immediately appeared before him, and without a moment's hesitation he leapt straight into it.

Hardly a moment later he emerged from the other end of his personal portal, finding himself cast into shadow and darkness once again, but this time instead of trees covering him from the light outside it was stone, for he was now deep within the earth below the old, ruined mountain known as the Well of Souls. Hearing his arrival, a group of small, disproportioned creatures jumped up in surprise and whirled around to face him, their bright red eyes boring into him questioningly. Nexus didn't so much as twitch under the hard gazes of the grublins. Instead he strode confidently forward, his dark grin ever present. The small grublins seemed to waver under his stare and shrank back nervously as he approached.

"Gather the others," Nexus commanded the creatures, his voice calm. "We have work to do."

* * *

><p><strong>And there you have it. Chapter 5, part 2, and the first real action scene of the book! Sorry if it took me a little too long to actually get to the exciting stuff, but you know how it is. Story development and blah blah blah...<strong>

**Anyhoo, I would absolutely love to hear what people thought of this scene. Was it exciting? How am I doing for my first ever fanfiction story? I hope nobody's getting bored of this story yet, because the good stuff is just getting started!**

**On a completely unrelated note: 1000 hits! WOO!**

**I'll try and have the next chapter up as quickly as possible, but I'm afraid I can't promise to have it ready by tomorrow. You may just have to wait more than a day... X)**

**Until next time.**


	8. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7:_

Nexus sat tapping a claw impatiently against the hard stone floor of the cavern, illuminated only by the dim glow of a pair of torches he had lit with his fire breath upon entering the vast subterranean chamber. The steady rhythm of his talon clicking against stone was the only sound within the large empty space, but Nexus himself was entirely unaware of it. His mind was elsewhere, far elsewhere.

_So, Spyro, how do I turn you?_ he asked himself for what must have been the hundredth time over the span of the last hour. _How do I bring you back?_

While he had been mulling over this question incessantly for the past several weeks, Nexus had made frustratingly little progress on finding a solution. His discovery from earlier that day was the only real step he had achieved toward accomplishing his goal since arriving in the Dragon Realms, but even that was only a tiny shift forward in a problem that seemed to grow more complex with each passing day.

As he had deduced already, Spyro's tie to this world was his companions. Even despite his immense power, he relied on them entirely. On the one hand this provided Nexus with a point of entry, a vulnerability that he knew he could somehow exploit in the future, if only he could determine how. However, at the same time it was also a tremendous hindrance. So long as Spyro had his friends to draw strength from, Nexus was forced to come to terms with the fact that Spyro would _never_ leave this world.

To get to Spyro, Nexus would have to somehow get his friends out of the picture. That much had been certain since he'd witnessed Spyro and his friends entering the city. But how?

The young purple dragon gave a frustrated snarl and rose to his feet, beginning to pace restlessly along the length of the cavern, a round trip that took him almost a full minute to complete.

_This is impossible!_ he grumbled inwardly. _How do I make someone leave when they already have everything they want?_

His mind began racing furiously as he tried to come up with a solution, all the while attempting to keep his mounting frustration in check. He tried to remember his training, everything his master had drilled into him over the course of his life, subconsciously reciting the single line that the powerful purple dragon had repeated countless times.

"Cold and focussed," he muttered, his voice so low it was barely audible, and slowly the frustration that clouded his mind began to fade away, suppressed by his sheer force of will. "Cold and focussed."

The first thought that came to his mind was to try and appeal to Spyro's curious side. Perhaps if he revealed himself to Spyro somehow, the other purple dragon would come to him hoping to learn more about his own kind, thereby giving Nexus the chance to get Spyro alone. After all, Spyro only knew what the guardians and the Chronicler had told him, which really was nothing at all, claiming that he was some prophesied saviour meant to counteract the evil of his predecessor, Malefor, the first purple dragon.

Nexus snorted with what was almost laughter at that. _The first purple dragon_, he thought disdainfully. _Idiots._

Nexus, on the other hand, could offer his counterpart some real answers, tell him everything he wanted to know. If Spyro was anything like Nexus thought he was—and Nexus was of the opinion that he knew the other purple dragon quite well—then he was lonely, secretly longing for something or someone that he could claim a true connection to, and the chance to get to know a dragon like him could hold strong appeal for him. Maybe that would be enough...

But then Nexus frowned and shook his head, realizing that there was no way it would be so simple. Spyro might be curious, yes, but he would almost certainly be wary as well. After all, he had been told in no uncertain terms by dragons that he trusted and respected that he and Malefor had been the _only_ purple dragons to ever exist. The sudden appearance of another would more than likely cause him to react defensively and suspiciously. What made the situation worse was that the only other purple dragon he had encountered had been a genocidal, power-hungry maniac that was the complete opposite of everything he believed in. His first thought upon seeing Nexus, then, would most likely be: 'Is he the same?'

Besides, even if Nexus could eventually gain Spyro's trust, he doubted he would ever be able to alleviate the suspicions of Spyro's friends, especially if he began trying to pull Spyro away from them. They would resist, which would inevitably cause Spyro to resist. It was an unwinnable situation.

He also immediately discounted the idea of trying to overpower Spyro in a direct confrontation and bring him back to the Dark Realms as a prisoner. While Spyro would have no choice but to submit to their master's rule once there, Nexus knew inside that getting him there at all would be next to impossible. Spyro was powerful. While he was nowhere near as well trained as Nexus was, his natural ability was nothing to be trifled with. On top of that, Nexus had to consider a simple fact. While he and Spyro may currently find themselves fighting for reasons that were completely opposing in nature, Nexus held within him a firm belief: Spyro was not his enemy. To make an enemy of him now would only hinder his cause and create more difficulties in the long run.

This, however, only brought him back to the same conclusion he'd come to at the very start of his mission: Spyro would have to choose to forsake his friends and follow Nexus willingly. This, of course, presented a tremendous problem. Just as Nexus knew himself to be loyal to his master and any who he could claim a bond to, Spyro was unwaveringly loyal to his friends, and they in return held complete faith in him. They were like an anchor, one that held Spyro firmly in this world and that was unbreakable by any outside force.

But just as he made this conclusion, Nexus suddenly faltered and came to an abrupt halt back in the center of the chamber.

_Unbreakable by any _outside_ force,_ he repeated in his mind.

In that instant it suddenly became glaringly obvious what he had to do, and Nexus couldn't help but laugh deeply at his own blindness. Of course! It was so obvious that he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before! Within his mind, already the first workings of a plan were beginning to form.

The sound of something scraping against the stone floor suddenly reached his ears, and Nexus immediately rounded on the source and settled into a fighting stance, ready to leap into battle at the slightest provocation and unleash the torrent of power that he contained within him. However, just at that moment he saw a group of familiar figures emerge from a dark passageway in the wall and he slowly relaxed, his face settling into a mild scowl. The grublins had arrived.

The small creature at the head of the group—which Nexus immediately recognized as the same one he had spoken to earlier that day and that he had selected to serve as a representative for the rest of the species—hurried ahead of the others and emitted a string of guttural chattering sounds; the grublins' form of speech. Nexus frowned as he strained to listen to the rapid string of noises, determining that the grublin's words roughly translated to, 'Everything is ready.'

"I'll be the judge of that," Nexus replied in a warning tone. "Report."

The group of six grublins drew to a halt about a half-dozen metres from the purple dragon, daring to venture no closer, and Nexus frowned disapprovingly at the sight of them. Ever since learning of the existence of the creatures he had despised them. They were imbecilic, unruly, and on top of it all they were just downright _ugly_! However, even Nexus was forced to admit that, in bulk, they constituted a useful means of power projection, and it was no secret that grublins were not at all lacking in numbers. Malefor had used them successfully to spread terror throughout the world for three entire years, driving all who opposed him to near extinction. Nexus's own plans for the creatures were significantly more focussed, but he knew they would prove useful nonetheless.

He listened grimly as the six grublins one by one reported on the status of the various collections of troops that had gathered within the mountain, relaying such information as their forces' general readiness to deploy right down to their supplies of weapons. All in all, Nexus was more or less satisfied with what he heard. With the inevitable few cases of blatant incompetence and even a couple of small-scale inter-clan skirmishes, it seemed as though the army of dark creatures was ready to move out whenever their new leader gave the word.

"I suppose that will have to do," Nexus sighed when the lead grublin concluded the report several minutes later. "It looks as if it's time to begin the next phase of this little operation, then."

The grublins cocked their heads curiously, and Nexus rolled his eyes with a groan. The leader made a brief inquiring noise that Nexus understood to mean 'What phase?'

"Come here," he told them, beckoning with a paw and turning to face a low stone platform that he had created a number of weeks before with his earth element to serve as a table, upon which he had been steadily engraving a map of the surrounding lands based on his own memory and whatever information his grublin patrols brought back to him—which he made certain to double-check in all cases. The grublins reluctantly obeyed him, anxiously edging closer until they stood around the far side of the stone map, gazing curiously down at the markings upon it.

"The next phase is destabilization," Nexus explained. "The dragons are in a very vulnerable state right now, and they know it. Communication between the settlements is at a near impasse because of their own fear for abandoning their 'secret' shelters. If I am ever going to be able to get access to Spyro, we need to unbalance them enough that the dragons in Warfang will have no choice but to leave their city personally to prevent a complete breakdown of peace."

The lead grublin chattered excitedly, overtaken by a sudden eagerness.

"No!" Nexus roared angrily, smacking a forepaw down against the top of the map table and causing the grublins to jump back in fear. He was rarely one to lose his temper, but dealing with the grublins had rapidly driven him to the end of his patience. "Not an attack against Warfang! Attacking the city directly at this point will only make them turtle back within it, at which point I'll never be able to accomplish my mission. We need to draw them out." He pointed with a talon at the three circles he had etched into the map that indicated the three outlying dragon villages. "If we threaten their settlements, the dragons in Warfang will leave their city to defend them. Once they're spread out and vulnerable, _then _I can start my real work."

The grublins made a number of confused noises, and Nexus groaned.

"I want the army split up into three divisions," he explained. "After that, one division will move out toward each of the settlements. They are _not_ to attack, though. They are to move close enough to the villages to make the inhabitants uncomfortable, but not so close as to prompt a retaliation." He leaned in closer, his expression darkening into a firm glare. "Now listen closely, because this is very important. The dragons must _not_ know the true size of these divisions. The main body of the armies must not be discovered. Let the dragons see a few scattered patrols here and there, and _nothing_ more! I want them to know that there are grublins roaming the lands, but I don't want them to know how many and where. Is that understood?"

The grublins all nodded their heads vigorously, muttering nervously in their own language. Though Nexus was still slightly doubtful that they would be competent enough to actually carry out his orders without some kind of screw-up, it was the best he had.

"Relay the orders," he instructed in a tired tone. "Once in position the divisions are to await my order to advance on any of the dragon settlements. _No_ kind of advance is to be made until _I_ say so!"

The grublins all nodded again. Then the leader among them took a hesitant step forward and addressed Nexus.

"What am I going to do in the meantime?" he repeated so as to be certain he had understood the creature's difficult language correctly.

The grublin nodded.

"I have my own reconnaissance to perform while you get your forces in position. Now, get moving! I want you all to return here in a week's time to report on the readiness of the divisions. I will not hear anything from any of you before then. Now go."

The grublins hastened to comply, fearful that any dallying might result in another angry outburst from the purple dragon. Within moments they had all disappeared into the depths of the mountains, all sound of their footsteps soon fading away into the darkness. Nexus sighed and rubbed a temple before turning away from the map and rising to his feet.

"I think it's time I paid Warfang a little visit," he muttered to himself.

Gathering his power into one of his forepaws, he slashed at the air and opened another miniature convexity portal—his favourite means of travelling any significant distance. Not all purple dragons could do it. So far as he knew, he was only one of a few to ever possess this particular gift, but ever since arriving in the Dragon Realms he had been making extensive use of it, jumping back and forth across the lands to monitor both Spyro and the state of Warfang over the past few weeks. It only made things easier now that both of those targets happened to be in the same place.

He jumped easily into the portal, emerging from its twin only a second later to find himself standing to the south-west of the city, the massive outer wall looming overhead in the distance, the entire city seeming to glow yellow and orange from the light of the setting sun. As he had done many times over the course of the month, Nexus was forced to admit that Warfang was a truly impressive sight, and it was no wonder Spyro had been so anxious to return to it. Nexus thought that, if given the choice of where he wanted to live, Warfang would probably be it.

"Focus," he scolded himself, shaking his head roughly. "How to get into the city?"

He sat back on his haunches for several minutes, staring out at the city's wall and pondering just how he was going to get into the city undetected. Of course he could use his Dragon Time to slip in without anyone seeing him, but that left him the issue of how to move about the city inconspicuously afterwards. He couldn't be using his time control every time he wanted to change positions, and in between he was still running the risk of being spotted, no matter how carefully he hid himself. In a city this large, no matter where he went he was liable to have eyes on him, so he needed to blend in. But how did one blend into a city that was still so on edge after a war?

A less determined dragon might have been discouraged by this seemingly impossible task, but Nexus knew that he had no choice in this matter. If he was going to determine how to get Spyro on his side, he had to know more about the other purple dragon, and that meant observing him extensively. He _had_ to get into the city. And besides, he had one advantage in this situation that no other dragon did.

"Well, I guess I go for the obvious solution," he muttered. He frowned thoughtfully, "Let's see..."

He craned his neck around to examine himself, judging the proportions of his body and running a number of possibilities through his head. It only took him a moment to come to a decision.

"Fire, then, I suppose. Alright, here goes nothing."

Taking a deep steadying breath, Nexus closed his eyes and concentrated, first on emptying his mind, then on the task at hand. This was where focus became critical, for it was an incredibly precise process that he was about to undertake. One lapse in concentration could mar the result to the point where he would have to start all over again.

Keeping his breathing slow and steady, Nexus allowed his most mysterious power to surface. Within moments he could feel a strange tingling throughout his entire being, his scales itching uncomfortably, his bones sending up the occasional twinge of pain. Nexus barely acknowledged the sensations, keeping his thoughts focussed solely on his task. He was finished in only a few seconds, though because of the itching and aching it had felt considerably longer. Letting out a long breath, Nexus opened his eyes and looked down at himself. Almost immediately a pleased grin spread across his muzzle, a feeling of giddy satisfaction sweeping through him.

_Perfect!_

This was by far his most unusual power, and it had been by far the most difficult for him to learn to use. His master had told him that it was in fact one of a kind, that he was the only purple dragon that had ever existed that could do what he just had. This knowledge always filled Nexus with a tremendous feeling of pride, for what a useful power it was! He had never used it outside of practice and training before, but the potential had always been as clear as day. With it he could travel to the same village or city a hundred times and not a single being would recognize him between trips. It made him a natural master of disguise.

Now, as he looked himself over, he saw not his usual bright purple scales with streaks of bronze. Instead they had all turned a vibrant red, while his normally bronze wings and tail spade had turned an almost golden yellow. He couldn't see his crest or horns, so just to double check he froze a small patch of ground beside him into a polished sheet of ice and looked down into it—smirking as he did so, wondering what would be the reaction of any passers by seeing a fire dragon breathing ice. As he had suspected, his crest and horns were the same yellow as his wings. His eyes were no longer dark purple tinged with red, just red. He had left his body structure unchanged for the most part, though his power allowed him to adjust this at will as well, and if he had wanted to he could have made himself appear completely unrecognizable. As it was, the only real structural change he had done was to enlarge his snout slightly to eliminate some of his natural resemblance to Spyro.

"Alright, Warfang," he chuckled, his expression twisting into a smirk of dark pleasure. "Here I come."

With a renewed confidence about his actions, he strode out from behind the cover of the trees outside the wall before freezing time and taking to the air, beating his wings rapidly for the centre of the city, soaring past the guards on top of the wall completely unseen. Once within the city walls he descended into the streets, soon locating a shaded alleyway and ducking back inside it before allowing time to resume its normal course. Afterwards he paused for a moment to regain his breath before turning back toward the street and stepping out into the light of the setting sun.

He had to work to hide his satisfied grin as he walked freely through the streets of Warfang, earning hardly a glance from any of the moles and few dragons that he passed along his way. He did still receive a few curious stares, mainly from the dragons. After all young dragons were somewhat of a rarity in the city at the moment. However, Nexus knew for a fact from his previous observations that there were in fact a few dragons around his age within the city already—probably eggs with parents that felt too insecure to send their unhatched offspring with the guardians to the old temple in the swamp when they had departed with all the eggs from the city. As such he was subjected to nothing more than a few mildly curious looks before the looker would resume their own path, leaving him free to wander the city undisturbed.

As he drew closer to the centre of the city, Nexus caught sight of a somewhat older ice dragon walking slowly in the opposite direction down the street. Deciding that it might save him some time searching the city on his own, Nexus altered his course to head the other dragon off, schooling his features into a soft, innocent smile and clearing his throat for attention.

"Why hello, young one," the elder said brightly when he noticed Nexus approaching. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Is it true?" Nexus said in a slightly hushed tone. "They say Spyro's back!"

The older dragon's smile grew wider, as if amused by the youngster's enthusiasm, and Nexus felt a tremendous swell of pride in his own acting skills.

"Why yes, indeed it is true," the dragon nodded, chuckling. "I'm surprised you didn't know already. There was quite a fuss raised about the whole matter."

Nexus shrugged. "Yeah, well, my parents said they heard fighting and told me to stay inside while they checked it out. They haven't come back yet, so I decided to come out and see what was going on for myself."

"Did you now?"

Nexus nodded. "So where is he?"

The elder laughed. "I'm afraid you won't be able to see him, if that's what you're getting at. But in any case, he's at the temple of course, speaking with the guardians I assume. I'm sure he has quite the tale to tell."

"Thanks!" Nexus exclaimed before skirting around the larger dragon and rushing up the street toward the city's upper levels, leaving the ice dragon chuckling to himself and shaking his head at what he took to be nothing more than a young dragon off to create some kind of mischief.

_Too easy!_ Nexus laughed in his mind. _The old fool!_

It took him several more minutes to wind his way through the many streets of Warfang, climbing steadily higher into the city's upper levels before finally arriving at the level just below the temple grounds. Once there Nexus circled around until he was on the north side of the temple, where the main doors were located and where he was certain Spyro would come out once he had finished speaking with the Guardians. Then he once again ducked into a dark alley before freezing time and taking to the air, flapping straight upward until he had located a high rooftop that offered him a good vantage point while still being well hidden. Only once he had touched down and found cover in the shadows did he release his hold on time, allowing the world around him to continue on its way as if it had never been interrupted.

_And now, to wait_, Nexus thought to himself, settling in on the stone rooftop with his eyes fixed on the temple doorway.

He didn't mind waiting. He had spent his entire life doing it, waiting for his chance to one day enter the world and carry out his master's wishes. As such another few minutes or even hours would hardly matter to him. It filled him with excitement just to think of how close he was. For the next seven days at least he would be watching Spyro's every move, and the purple dragon would never even know he was there.

_Soon, Spyro_, Nexus though with dark pleasure. _Soon, everything you know will change forever. I sure hope you're ready_.

One thing was certain. Whenever that time came, Nexus definitely would be.

***.*.***

The silence within the large stone chamber was almost unbearable, but none of the dragons within the room seemed to have the heart to break it. The three guardians were sitting stiffly in a half-circle in the centre of the floor, their faces grim. Hunter stood off to the side, his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest, his face impassive, though the tension was obvious in his body. Spyro, meanwhile, was staring at the floor in front of his paws with a painful lump growing in his throat, unable to meet the gazes of anyone else in the room. He felt Cynder shift closer to his right side and rest a comforting wing over his shoulders, but he didn't move at all. He could also hear Sparx hovering just off to his left, but the dragonfly wasn't moving or saying anything either.

"So our fears were correct after all," Terrador sighed heavily after almost a full minute had crept by, his voice hollow. "Our old friend has indeed passed."

Spyro's heart lurched at those last words, and he cringed and shut his eyes tightly as he felt the first sting of tears welling up. Cynder noticed immediately and pulled him closer, trying to console him, but at that moment Spyro felt that nothing could lift his spirits. He hadn't imagined that Ignitus's death could hit him this hard, especially after so much time had already passed. However, up until this point he'd never truly had time to feel sorrow; he had either been occupied fighting Malefor or trying to return to the city. Now that there was nothing greater pressing on his mind, it seemed as though his mentor's death was finally able to catch up with him, threatening to overwhelm him.

"Why didn't he let us help him?" he muttered, his voice hoarse.

"Spyro, there was nothing you could have done," Cynder told him gently.

"How do you know?" Spyro asked forcefully, his tone pleading. "How can you be so sure?"

"I just am," Cynder replied, softly but firmly. "He made his choice."

"But we didn't even do _anything_!" Spyro exclaimed, with such a sudden force of emotion in his voice that Cynder actually jumped away from him in surprise. "We just let him die! You wouldn't even let me go back to help him!"

"Cynder is right, Spyro," Terrador cut in, his voice stern. "Ignitus knew what he was doing when he took you two into the Belt, and more than that he knew what his odds were."

"Then why did he go?" Spyro demanded angrily. "If he knew he wasn't going to make it out, then why did he take us in there in the first place?"

"He knew there was no other way."

"There had to be another way!"

"Spyro, enough of this!" Terrador snapped suddenly, his temper flaring unexpectedly, and Spyro jolted back in shock. "You know as well as anyone that Ignitus would never come to a choice like this rashly! He did what was necessary for the survival of this world, just as I'm sure you yourself did. Trying to find blame where there is none will not bring him back!"

As the earth guardian's words slowly sunk in, Spyro felt a rush of shame unlike any he had ever known and he dropped his gaze once again to the ground. Of course Ignitus had known what he was doing, and though it pained him tremendously he realized that his sacrifice had indeed been necessary. He had given his life because he had known that there were countless other lives depending on the defeat of the Dark Master, just as Spyro himself had been ready to give his life in the effort of pulling the world back together. Heaving a large sigh, he glanced up for a moment to see that all eyes were turned toward him, as if waiting anxiously to see how he would react next. Cynder, especially, was gazing at him with a wary look in her eyes, her body turned slightly away as if to protect herself. It was only too clear to Spyro what she feared in the face of his angry outburst, and this realization only deepened his shame.

"What is done is done," Cyril said with a note of finality in his voice, as if declaring that it was best if the conversation were brought to a close. "It is a most unfortunate turn of events, but an unavoidable one I think. Let us take some comfort in the fact that the young ones have returned safely, at least, as Ignitus would have wanted."

Terrador, Volteer and Hunter all nodded their heads in agreement.

"Indeed, the time for grieving is not now," Terrador grunted. "There will be time later, but there is still much work that needs to be done before that is possible. Our world is still in a fragile state. Perhaps now that you two have returned, we can turn all out attention on bringing back some stability."

"For now, however, I think some sleep is in order," Cyril noted as Spyro gave a sudden, unexpected yawn. "After the events of this afternoon, the both of you must surely be utterly exhausted."

"Oh yes, the hour has become late indeed, hasn't it?" Volteer added, glancing up toward the windows high in the wall above, through which the sun's rays were no longer visible. "I am certain that all of us could benefit from some rest."

"That does sound like a good idea," Cynder said, and when Spyro looked at her he could see her eyelids and wings drooping, the excitement of the day having taken a heavy toll on her, and he could only imagine what he looked like.

"Yes, you both have certainly earned yourselves a long, undisturbed sleep," Terrador nodded. Then his eyes widened as if from realization. "And something to eat as well, I expect. Neither of you have eaten at all this evening, have you? I hadn't even realized we'd kept you here this long."

"I doubt I would even have the energy to eat anything right now," Cynder groaned, and Spyro nodded his head in agreement. "Maybe in the morning..."

"Well, I expect we can have the moles bring you something in your rooms if you change your minds."

"Our rooms?" Spyro repeated, puzzled.

"Well, you didn't think that after a month we would have absolutely no accommodations prepared for you, did you?" Cyril snorted. "Come now, young dragon! Chambers have long since been prepared for you both in the residence just beyond the temple grounds to the north-west, ready for your return."

"Oh, you should really see this room, Spyro," Sparx said eagerly. "It's really something!"

"Um, okay," Spyro said hesitantly, still processing what he had been told. He glanced at Cynder, who merely shrugged. "I guess we'll go over there now, then."

"A very good plan," Terrador said approvingly. "Don't either of you worry about being up at a specific time in the morning, either. I think that tomorrow would be best spent recuperating after all the trials you have endured recently. Perhaps during that time you'll find a chance to tell us the rest of what happened on your journey to face the Dark Master. I for one am quite curious about how the rest of this story plays out."

"As are we all," Volteer added quickly. "I'm sure it is a spectacular, enthralling tale."

"Spyro, I'm sure Sparx can lead you to your rooms," Terrador told the purple dragon. "Cynder, your room is along the way to Spyro's, a couple of doors down. Sparx will be able to point it out, I'm sure."

"If I have to," Sparx sighed. "Right this way, kiddies."

"Sleep well," Terrador told them as Sparx began fluttering toward the main exit of the assembly hall. "And welcome back."

"Thank you, Terrador," Spyro said before turning to follow after his brother, Cynder trailing right behind him.

The going was mostly silent as the group of three exited the temple and began traversing the main courtyard on their way to the stairs that would lead them to the next level down in the city. Though the sadness brought on by the memory of Ignitus's death still weighed heavily on Spyro during the walk, the calm, cool night air and the knowledge that he was at last safely back within Warfang was enough to reduce the pain to little more than a dull ache that was much easier to push to the back of his mind. Once they had left the temple grounds behind them Sparx made a turn to the left and guided the two dragons toward a large, elegantly constructed building with walls that curved around each other in a gently flowing pattern, several round balconies and widows dotting the exterior while an arched open doorway stood invitingly ahead, the warm glow of lantern light spilling out into the darkened street from within the greeting hall. Sparx didn't hesitate at all before fluttering inside. The only other souls within the open atrium that served as a greeting hall and lounge were a pair of mole attendants that greeted the three of them warmly when they entered. Spyro and Cynder both nodded their heads graciously in thanks while Sparx made for the winding staircase without so much as a word.

"Alright, here we are," he declared a minute later when the three of them reached the very top floor of the building. "From what I'm told, we pretty much have this whole floor to ourselves."

"Really?" Cynder said in surprise, glancing around the wide hallway.

"Yup," Sparx nodded proudly. "Pretty sweet, huh? Anyway, I guess I'll point out your room first, Cynder. Right over here..."

He moved ahead into the hallway. Spyro followed slowly, looking around at the open corridor in admiration. The other floors they had passed on their way to the top floor had all appeared fairly similar, with a long stone hallway leading along the length of the building and wooden doors leading into the varying rooms along both walls. This floor was much more elaborately constructed, however. The hall was of a much more spacious nature, with a vaulted ceiling covered with decorative imagery painted onto the stone, a thick brightly coloured rug stretching the length of the hall beneath their feet and a number of potted plants along either wall between bedroom doorways. Clearly this level was for the residence's more distinguished patrons, and Spyro felt mildly embarrassed at the thought of receiving such special treatment. Sparx, however, was clearly unconcerned as he zipped across the hall to the second of three doors on the left side of the hall.

"This is you," he declared. "I'm told everything's all set up and ready for you. I can't say I checked, so if it's not true then don't come after me about it."

With that final note he turned and zipped off farther down the hall. Cynder stepped forward and pushed lightly against the polished wooden door, causing it to swing open a crack before she peered inside. Before entering, however, she turned back to face Spyro.

"Goodnight," she told him before leaning forward quickly to nuzzle him affectionately under his chin. Then, after flashing him one final light smile she entered her room and shut the door behind her.

"Goodnight," Spyro muttered dazedly to the closed doorway, feeling a rush of warmth in his cheeks. He hardly registered the disgusted noise Sparx made from farther down the hall.

"Alright already, Romeo," the dragonfly called impatiently. "Get your tail in gear. You really want to see our room."

"Alright, Sparx, I'm coming," Spyro said, rolling his eyes.

Sparx watched with his arms crossed disapprovingly, a scowl on his face, as Spyro slowly strode down the hallway to stop in front of the final door where Sparx was hovering. His mind elsewhere, it took the purple dragon quite some time before he finally noticed the way his brother was glaring at him.

"What?"

"How could you do this to me?" Sparx demanded, his voice a low hiss.

"What?" Spyro repeated, thoroughly puzzled. "Do what to you?"

"Fall for _her_, that's what! After all that she's put us through—"

"Oh, Sparx, not this again," Spyro groaned.

"I'm serious! I get chills every time I see her, and you _knew_ that, but now I'm never going to be able to get away from her! Why?"

"Why?"

"Yes, why! I mean, you saved the _world_! You could've had any girl, anywhere, but no! You have to go for...for..."

The dragonfly looked as if he was about to have a complete breakdown, and normally Spyro would be enjoying his antics greatly but as it was all he wanted was to lay his heavy head down somewhere and sleep for a week.

"Sparx, do we really have to talk about this right now?" Spyro grumbled tiredly. "I feel like I'm about ready to fall over here."

Sparx heaved a tremendous sigh and growled, "Fine, but in the morning you have a _lot_ of explaining to do, big boy."

Without another word Sparx turned sharply about and shoved open the door to their room, surprisingly able to move the heavy looking door completely on his own. The door swung open soundlessly and Spyro followed his brother inside before pushing the door closed behind them, finding to his surprise that it took hardly any effort at all to do so. Then he turned around to face the room. As soon as his eyes fell on what lay before him, however, he gasped in shock.

"Not bad, huh?" Sparx chuckled, unable to hold back a grin when he noticed his dragon brother's stunned expression.

"This...this is all for..._us_?" Spyro said weakly.

The room was the largest bedroom Spyro had ever laid eyes on. Their chambers were cordoned off into three separate areas, all brightly lit by warm lanterns hanging from the curved stone ceilings and all magnificently decorated. Upon entering the room Spyro found himself standing in what looked to be a sort of private lounge. It was a roughly circular space with two sets of deep purple cushions piled on either end of a thick rug. Against the left wall a low, wide wooden bookshelf was built, the two levels of shelving large enough to accommodate almost any book as well as any other possession Spyro may want to store there. Higher on the wall, four tapestries were hung bearing the colours and emblems of the four base elements.

On the far side of this common area a couple of stone steps let up to a slightly raised section of floor leading to the large balcony opening. Like the lounge this space was round, however it was much more simply set up than the common area. Aside from another, smaller rug, the floor was left bare and the walls had no shelves or other furniture against them. The only other thing in this space was a small wood-burning fireplace set into the left wall. Clearly the purpose of this room was just a simple sitting area for relaxing, whether by a fire or in the light from the sun through the door to the balcony, and Spyro immediately got the impression that, if he ever had the time, he could easily see himself spending a day doing absolutely nothing in that space.

The third and final area sat off to the right of the lounge and was the smallest of the three sections of the room. A half-ring of small shelves was built into the wall of the back half of the room, obviously meant for personal possessions. A single deep purple banner hung off the back wall. The centre of the floor was dominated by a large circular patch of cushions and blankets.

"Wow," Spyro breathed in awe, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sight of the chambers. "I can't believe this."

"I know, right?" Sparx said happily. "Finally, a little proper appreciation!"

"This can't really all be for just us, can it? You could fit everyone from our village in here!"

"Hard to believe, right? But there's no mistake here. This is all just for you and me."

Slowly and uncertainly, feeling almost as if he didn't belong in this grand space, Spyro advanced into the lounge area and began a slow circuit of the room, examining every detail, his weariness forgotten in the moment. He tried to take in everything all at once, from the feel of the cushions to the smallest detail on the elemental banners.

"Obviously there was nothing of yours to put in here," Sparx said as he hovered along by Spyro's side, watching his brother examining the room. "So the guardians brought in a few things to fill up some of the empty space, I guess."

He gestured with a tiny hand at the bookshelf, and Spyro paused in his rounds to peer at the small collection of books that had been placed in the centre of the upper shelf. He quickly scanned over some of the titles, and a smirk spread on his muzzle as the selections of each individual guardian became immediately clear.

'_Histories of Dragon Nobility'_

'_The World We Live In: An Ecological Study'_

'_Honour and Heritage: Determining Your Lineage'_

'_Tales of Glory: Heroes of the Warfang Rebellion'_

'_Practical Applications of Elemental Magic'_

"I didn't really have the heart to tell them that you would probably never read any of this stuff," Sparx grunted. "But what the heck? At least you look brainy to visitors."

Spyro gave an amused snort before moving on in his tour.

His next stop was the balcony, and he was immediately struck by the sheer size of it. It was almost as spacious as the entire main lounge of the room with a low, elegantly carved railing running along the outside. The railing itself seemed to serve nothing more than a decorative purpose, for falling was rarely a concern for a dragon. Judging by its height, it was more likely there for the benefit of any mole visitors to the room. The view off the balcony was breathtaking, even during the darkness of night, and Spyro could hardly wait to see what it looked like in the morning. Then, as he was returning inside, Spyro caught sight of something poking out from the stone wall on the left side of the entryway and went to investigate. What he found was a kind of stiff, woven fabric covering that could be pulled out from the wall across the entire balcony entrance, thereby sealing off the room from the outside air in case of cold nights. When he closed it experimentally Spyro was surprised to find it incredibly airtight, as well as quite effective at blocking out any noise from the city. However he found that the outside air wasn't cold enough to warrant sealing off the room, so he quickly opened it again.

Last of all he climbed the few stone steps to the sleeping area, and he was immediately aware of the cozy atmosphere of the small space. A thick purple curtain could be drawn over the entryway for privacy, but even without it the space was enclosed enough to feel secure. The walls were bare except for the purple banner and the shelving that ran around the entire circumference of the room. What surprised Spyro, however, was that while from outside the cushions on the floor had appeared to be nothing more than a thin layer placed on top of the floor, upon closer inspection he found that in actuality the floor was actually recessed, then filled to the brim with soft cushions and assorted blankets, creating a sort of oversized nest. It looked like the very definition of comfortable, and Spyro couldn't wait to curl up in its centre. Still he restrained himself long enough to examine the rest of the room first. The shelves here were almost completely bare, with the only exceptions being a small collection of varying spirit gem pieces and, to Spyro's surprise, a set of gleaming silver ceremonial armour.

"What's this for?" he asked curiously.

Sparx merely shrugged. "Beats me. The guardians probably have some big event planned or something and they want you to look all proper and whatever. Maybe when they pick the new fire guardian?"

Spyro faltered midway into reaching for the shining helm, his gaze quickly falling to the ground as he gave a strained sigh.

"Oh," Sparx said quietly, guiltily. "Listen, buddy, I'm really sorry to hear about what happened to Ignitus. You holding up okay?"

Spyro sighed again before nodding slowly. "Well enough, I guess. I never really stopped to think about it until today. I guess that seeing the rest of the guardians here without him makes me realize that he's really gone."

Sparx nodded stiffly before floating over to rest a small hand on his brother's shoulder. "He did it for you, and for the world. At least you were able to make his death worth it."

Spyro nodded again before looking down at his brother gratefully. "Thank you, Sparx."

"Hey, what are brother's for?"

Spyro chuckled meekly and smiled, wiping his eyes with the back of a paw before looking around the room again. Then a small frown came over his features when he realized something.

"Um...Where do you sleep?" he asked, looking over at Sparx curiously.

"Oh yeah!" Sparx exclaimed, almost as if he had forgotten all about his own sleeping accommodations. "Check this out."

He zipped over to the edge of the large purple banner on the wall and grabbed the corner in his hands, backing up and pulling the fabric with him to reveal a recess in the wall that had been previously invisible, illuminated by what looked to be a miniature shuttered lantern containing a brilliant shard of blue spirit gem. Within the small space were a padded bed and other various dragonfly-sized furnishings.

"The moles built this all in one day," Sparx said in a pleased tone. "Now we can stay together while still having our own space. Pretty neat, huh?"

Spyro grinned, rearing up and placing his forepaws on top of his shelf to get a better look inside Sparx's miniature room.

"It looks great," he commented.

"Yeah, the moles really outdid themselves with all this. It's like we're royalty or something! I tell you, I could get used to this."

Spyro chuckled. "So you're not dying to get back to the swamp any time soon?"

Sparx snorted loudly. "As if. I mean I love it there, but after everything we've done I feel like we deserve a little more. Is that so unreasonable?"

"No, of course not."

Sparx frowned at him when he caught the sarcasm in the dragon's voice, but he made no further remarks on the matter and instead turned back toward his own room.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I think I'm about ready to hit the sack," he declared.

"That sounds like a good idea," Spyro agreed, yawning loudly and rubbing his eyes drowsily. "I feel like I could sleep for days."

"Yeah, well, good luck with that."

With that Sparx slipped past the banner that doubled as a curtain for his room and disappeared from sight. Spyro, meanwhile, turned toward the nest of cushions and stepped up to the edge, pressing experimentally on the soft surface as if to judge how supportive it was before venturing out onto it. Once he reached the centre he flopped over on his side and gave a loud, contented sigh as he felt himself sinking into the soft, warm blankets. It was without a doubt the most comfortable thing he had ever been on, and there wasn't a single doubt in his mind that he would sleep soundly that night.

"Goodnight, Sparx," he called.

"Goodnight Spyro," his brother replied, his voice muffled by the thick fabric of the banner. There was a slight pause before he added, "It's good to have you back."

A smile stretched across the purple dragon's features, and he felt a swell of warmth that all but chased away the pains and troubles left over from the long, trying day. Feeling content and safe, Spyro succumbed almost immediately to a deep and restful sleep, drifting off into the wonderful and mysterious realm of his dreams.

***.*.***

"That's right. Go ahead and settle in. You must think you deserve it."

A lone red dragon snickered quietly to himself as he lay hidden on one of Warfang's many rooftops, watching through the wide balcony doorway that opened into Spyro's luxurious chambers as the purple dragon climbed the short flight of steps into the smaller side room and disappearing from sight, no doubt to settle down for a night of long-awaited rest. Little did he know that as he had been touring his new rooms, a keen pair of dark red eyes had been watching his every move.

Now that his quarry was out of his sight, Nexus silently rose to his feet and made his way stealthily down from the rooftop onto a small upper balcony of an unoccupied residence building. By the blocked-off main doorway Nexus had deduced that this particular building had been uninhabited for some time, no doubt as a result of the city's dwindling dragon population. As such he thought that it would be an ideal place to make his temporary home for the duration of his stay in the city, especially since it lay so close to both Spyro's room and the temple which were the two places Spyro would most likely be the majority of the time. Once inside, Nexus positioned himself so that he would be awakened early by the light of the rising sun the next morning and curled up on the cool stone floor for a night of rest, grinning to himself all the while.

"Enjoy it while you can."

* * *

><p><strong>Well, shorter chapter this time. Still, I really enjoyed writing it. For some reason I really like writing chapters with Nexus in them! Don't know what it is about the guy...<strong>

**Bet you didn't see Nexus's shapeshifting power coming! X) A little too weird? Let me know what you think! Any feedback at all would be hugely appreciated. It's hard to know how I'm doing on this story when I don't hear anything for 2 or 3 chapters. I like how it's turning out, but an outside opinion is always helpful!**

**Anyway, thanks again to everyone who's been reading up until now. I hope you continue to read as the story develops!**


	9. Chapter 8

******Man, where am I finding the time to write so much? I honestly thought updates would be taking me a lot longer, and yet here's another 9,000+ words ready to go. Maybe it's all the time I spend writing instead of doing calculus homework...  
><strong>

**Anyway, I realized the other day that Flash hasn't made an appearance in this story since his introduction a while ago, and I like him almost as much as I like Nexus, so here's an entire chapter just for him!**

**Enjoy.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 8:<span>_

He was first roused from his slumber by the sound of a door bursting open somewhere not too far away. But Flash was in no mood to wake up just yet, and with a mildly annoyed groan he rolled over on his cushions and draped a wing over his head to try and block out the noise. Unfortunately for him, there was another dragon with other plans.

"Flash! Wake up, little bro!"

The young white dragon grumbled loudly and curled up tighter on his cushions at the sound of Claymore's loud call, which seemed to be coming down the small hallway that led to his room. A moment later he heard heavy footsteps on the stone floor as the older earth dragon entered.

"Flash, I told you to get up!" he said. "Come on, this is important. Up and at 'em, buddy."

"Go away," Flash groaned.

"Seriously, Flash, get up. There's something I need to tell you."

Flash didn't answer.

Claymore sighed heavily with exasperation. "Really? You're actually going to make me do this? Oh, fine..."

Flash yelped in surprise as the cushion he was lying on was suddenly yanked out from underneath him, sending him unceremoniously tumbling onto the rough stone floor. Almost immediately he was on his feet, whirling around to glare at the earth dragon who stood a couple of feet away, Flash's thick red cushion dangling from his jaws and a large, smug grin stretched across his face.

"What was that for?" Flash demanded. "It's still early! Class isn't for another couple of hours, at least."

"That's what I was trying to tell you," Claymore replied evenly, tossing the cushion aside carelessly. "Kryos just came by and told me that the elders have cancelled regular classes for today."

Flash was caught thoroughly by surprise by this news, and for a moment all he could do was stare back at his brother in surprise. Then he shook his head numbly as if to clear it.

"What are you talking about? The elders never cancel class!"

It was true. Even during the height of the war, the village elders had insisted that education for the young dragons of the village was to continue undisrupted. It was only on very rare occasions that classes were ever interrupted, and it was almost unheard of for an entire day of school to be cancelled without warning.

Claymore merely gave a shrug. "I don't know, but it's true. I went out to check, and there are elders going around the city letting everyone know. It's really weird."

"But why would they do that?" Flash asked, frowning. "Is something happening?"

"You're asking the wrong dragon, brother. I've just told you everything I know."

Flash was silent for a long moment as he glanced away, deep in thought. What could this all mean? The elders had to have some kind of reason for cancelling classes. It was something they hated doing, if only because school was about the only way they could be certain of the whereabouts of the village's young ones for the duration of the day. They seemed to be of the opinion that, if given any length of time on their own, the children would create all forms of mischief within the village—which, Flash was forced to admit, was true. Since the elders rarely let anyone venture outside of the caverns except to hunt, the only distraction available to occupy the time of the young dragons was to inevitably create some form of trouble.

"So that's the only reason you woke me up?" Flash asked a minute later, his face turning into a mild scowl. "If there are no classes, you could have just let me sleep."

"Oh, no you don't," Claymore chuckled, shaking his head. "You're coming with me to check this out."

"What?" Flash exclaimed. "Aww, why? I'm happy here, Claymore."

"Yes, and that's the problem. If I didn't make you leave you would spend your entire life in this room. Come on, it'll be good for you."

He turned toward the door and started walking, signalling that he wasn't going to wait for any arguments. At first Flash didn't move, glaring at the back of his brother's head as he left the room. Just a moment later, though, the earth dragon's voice called out from the hallway.

"Don't make me come in there and drag you out! I'll do it, you know."

"Fine!" Flash sighed bitterly. "Alright, I'm coming. Wait for me."

Grumbling to himself, Flash got to his feet and walked quickly through his open doorway and out into the narrow hallway, where he found his brother waiting with the same smug grin on his face as before. Flash rolled his eyes but nonetheless followed as Claymore turned and made his way toward the end of the hall, where the walls fell away to reveal their home's common area.

The house itself was small by dragon standards, with the two bedrooms being the only rooms in the small hallway. The common area served as everything from a kitchen to the house's living room, but even so it was barely large enough for three adult dragons to squeeze into at any time. There was barely anything inside except for a small table and a pair of worn cushions in the centre of the room. It was otherwise empty of both possessions and occupants. This was no surprise, however; Claymore and Flash had lived alone in this house for years now.

"So where are we going?" Flash asked tiredly as his brother led them both outside into the dim morning glow that filtered into the cavern from the main entrance in the distance and a few tiny air shafts in the cave ceiling.

"I figured the most likely place to learn anything would be the dining hall," Claymore replied. "Besides, I'm hungry. Hopefully they're serving something good today. Maybe they'll actually have meat for once."

"Probably just more stews," Flash grunted. "They seem to love that stuff lately."

Claymore turned his head slightly to glance down at his brother out of the corner of his eyes. "Oh, come on. Would it kill you to think positively for once?"

"What? I'm grumpy because you woke me up."

"You're always grumpy."

Flash had no argument for that, and so he instead remained silent.

It only took the pair a few minutes to reach the small dining hall, seeing as their home was located relatively close to the village's centre. When they got there Flash found that the hall was about half full, which he found surprising for this early hour. Still, it was easy enough for Claymore and Flash to wind their way between the bodies until they reached the serving table.

"Ha, told you," Claymore grinned. "They _do_ have meat today!"

Flash craned his neck up to see better, and sure enough in the centre of the serving line a tray of what looked like roasted deer meat was resting above a round clay bowl of softly-glowing embers to keep the meat warm. Wasting no time, Claymore grabbed a tray from the pile on the end of the table and headed straight for the meat.

"Any chance of a double serving?" the earth dragon asked with a smirk.

The fire dragon standing behind the table chuckled deeply.

"Not on your life," he said in a deep voice. "This has to last. It doesn't seem as if there will be any more hunting trips in a while."

"Why not?" Flash spoke up as he stepped up next to his brother with his own tray.

To Flash's mild irritation, the dragon waved a paw evasively instead of answering.

"It's not important right now. The point is to just enjoy it while you can. So, _one_ serving for each of you it is..."

The deer meat turned out to be the only surprise on the menu that morning. When Flash glanced down the rest of the table his gaze was met with the usual selection of fruits, grains and stews made from vegetables gathered from crops grown just within the entrances to the caves. Not feeling all that hungry that morning, Flash settled for a smaller piece of deer and a half-filled bowl of stew while Claymore loaded up with fruits to accompany his deer. Then the pair made their way back toward the dining tables, searching for somewhere to sit to have their breakfast.

"Hey, Claymore!" a voice called out suddenly, attracting the attention of both young dragons. "Over here!"

Flash soon caught sight of the speaker and frowned when he saw the small group of younger dragons sitting a couple of tables over, among them Kryos and Gemma. They were all eagerly waving to get Claymore's attention, and Flash suppressed a sigh when the earth dragon began making his way toward them.

"Hey there Claymore," Gemma said brightly as the pair approached the table. Then she noticed the white dragon standing beside him and a look of slight surprise crossed her features before she added in a duller tone, "Oh, and Flash too. Hey."

Flash merely grunted in reply before leaning his head down to deposit his tray on the table, choosing a spot on the far side of his brother from the rest of the group.

"Hey guys," Claymore said after setting his own tray down. "What are you all doing here this early?"

"We're trying to come up with ideas for why the elders have classes cancelled," Kryos replied quickly. "Right now the leading suggestions are that they're doing some kind of renovation, or one of the teachers had a heart attack."

Flash rolled his eyes as he nibbled on his breakfast, pretending not to be listening to the conversation. Claymore, on the other hand, gave an amused snort.

"A heart attack?" he asked. "Really? Who said that?"

Kryos pointed with a talon, and a red fire dragon about Claymore's age raised a paw into the air.

"Is that really how desperate you've all become for some excitement?" Claymore laughed.

"Hey!" Kryos exclaimed. "It's a valid theory! And yes, now that you bring it up, a little excitement would be appreciated about now."

"The elders _have_ been becoming more and more strict about letting anyone outside," Gemma pointed out. "We need something to keep us entertained!"

Claymore sighed and shook his head. Flash, meanwhile, gave a silent groan and looked out across the dining hall, tuning out the rest of the conversation as his brother's group of friends laughed and poked fun at each other as they always did. He was almost finished his meal and was debating getting up to leave when movement at the hall's main doorway caught his attention. Curious, Flash stretched his neck up as high as he could to try and see who had entered. To his surprise, it was the village's chief elder.

"Hey," he spoke up, jabbing his brother in the ribs with an elbow. "Claymore!"

"Ow!" Claymore exclaimed, rubbing his flank with a forepaw. "What's gotten into you?"

"Look."

After shooting his younger brother one last suspicious glance, Claymore followed Flash's pointed talon. When he saw the elder standing there he immediately straightened up in surprise. The motion caught the attention of the others at the table, and soon everyone was looking in the direction of the large earth dragon.

"What's he doing here?" Gemma asked, leaning over to try and get a better look past the heads in her way.

No one had an answer, but they were all just as curious as he was, including Flash. It was common knowledge that the village elders had their own private kitchens within the residence structure that contained their quarters, so it was a rarity to see them in the public dining hall. They weren't left to wonder for long, however, because at that moment the large dragon spread his wings wide and called out for attention.

"Everyone, quiet down for a moment please!"

Almost immediately all conversation in the hall ceased, every head turning toward the elder.

"I can see that there are several young dragons in here already," the elder declared, glancing around the hall, and Flash did as well to see that aside from their group there were about a half dozen other dragons their age scattered about the chamber. "This is an announcement to let you all know that, in place of your regular classes, you are expected to meet in the village centre courtyard in half an hour. Attendance is mandatory. That is all."

With his announcement made, the large dragon turned promptly about and walked right back out through the doors that he had entered from. A moment after he had departed a low murmuring began circulating around the dining hall, all the dragons present curious as to what this unexpected development could mean.

"What's that all about?" Gemma muttered after a minute.

"I don't know," Claymore replied, still looking out toward the doorway, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Should we go check it out?"

"Not for another half an hour, I say," Kryos grunted. "Whatever it is, I have a feeling that it's not going to involve fun and games. I'm out of here until then."

There was a general rumble of agreement from the other dragons at the table, and all as one they got to their feet and headed for the door of the dining hall. Claymore lagged behind. Flash was almost completely unaware of any of this, though. He was still staring out toward the door, wondering what this strange summons could be about.

"Do you want to check it out?" Claymore asked him a moment later.

Flash finally turned to look at him, and when he did he saw his older brother looking at him with a serious expression on his face, one that was unusual to see on him. It was blatantly clear to Flash that Claymore was extremely curious about what was happening. He was as well. After only a second's thought he nodded firmly.

"Alright, then let's go," Claymore said, rising quickly to his feet and turning toward the door. "Come on."

"I'm coming," Flash replied, hurrying to keep up with his brother.

It only took a moment of looking around once they exited the building to locate the chief elder walking down a main street on their left. Keeping to the cover of the sides of the street as much as possible and ducking into alleyways whenever they were afraid they might be spotted, the two young dragons cautiously shadowed the elder until, several minutes later, he stopped in front of a large, plain stone building; the council building, where the elders would meet whenever they had something they needed to discuss with each other. Normally, however, council meetings weren't held until the evenings, so what reason would the elders have for coming here now?

"Aw, crap," Claymore grumbled when the large earth dragon disappeared inside the building. "Looks like we're not going to get any answers after all. I guess we'll just have to wait and find out what's going on just like everyone else."

"You think that they're actually going to tell us anything?" Flash said sceptically. "Yeah, right."

"Well what choice do we have?" Claymore asked, throwing his wings out in a frustrated gesture. "I'm just as curious as you are, buddy, but let's face it. The only thing we ever get to know is what the elders decided they want to let us in on, and ever since those messengers started showing up from Warfang that's been less and less. We just have to deal with it. Now come on, let's head over to the courtyard."

He turned around to begin the short trip down the main road to the village's central courtyard, but Flash hesitated. He was still staring at the council building, wrestling with his doubts and curiosity. While inside he knew that Claymore was right and that it would probably be best to just return to the village centre to await whatever announcement the elders had for the young dragons, something inside him was insisting that something just wasn't adding up. First classes are cancelled for the first time in over a year with absolutely no explanation, and now this mysterious summons for all young dragons in the village? Something was going on, and if there was one thing Flash hated it was being left intentionally out of the loop.

"Flash?" Claymore called back impatiently when he noticed that his brother wasn't with him. "Are you coming, buddy, or do I need to turn you into a boulder and roll you all the way there?"

"I'm checking this out," Flash declared suddenly instead of answering, taking a step toward the large building.

"Wait, what?" Claymore blurted, spinning around and seeing his brother walking toward the council building. "Whoa, hold up little bro! That's not a good idea!"

Flash merely flicked his tail dismissively before calling up his control of the light element and disappearing from sight.

"Flash, wait!" Claymore called insistently, but it was too late. Now that his brother was invisible, there was nothing he could do to stop him without attracting attention to the two of them. In the end, all he could do was take up a watchful position by a street corner and wait anxiously for his brother's return.

Flash, meanwhile, had no trouble entering the council building. When he stepped through the open doorway and into the lobby he faltered for just a moment when he saw the rather bored-looking ice dragon standing guard over the room, positioned strategically to intercept any trespassers as soon as they entered the door. There was nothing he could do about a dragon he couldn't see, however, and Flash was able to tip toe past him without arousing the slightest suspicion from the guard.

_Alright, now where to go from here?_ he wondered as he looked around at the various doors and hallways leading out of the lobby. Not surprisingly, he had never been in this particular building before. As a result he had no idea where the elder dragon might have gone.

_Well, I guess I'd better start looking,_ he thought with an inward groan, knowing that he didn't have very much time before he needed to get back to Claymore so that they could head for the central courtyard. Deciding to try the largest corridor directly ahead of him first, Flash silently began his search.

Several minutes later he had determined that the elders were in none of the rooms down the first hallway, so with a muffled, frustrated groan he made his way back to the lobby and turned instead toward a broad staircase that curved steadily left out of sight. Once at the top of the stairs, Flash found a hallway that looked almost identical to the one on the ground floor.

_Some luck would be really great right about now,_ he thought grimly, knowing that he only had a few minutes left before he needed to leave.

The first two doors yielded no results in his search for the elders, and with a mounting sense of frustration Flash headed for the third. He was almost out of time, and he absolutely hated the idea of leaving without finding anything. If he didn't find the elders, then what had even been the point?

After checking the third door and once again hearing nothing inside, Flash was just about to give up when he thought he heard voices coming from the other side of the hall. He immediately went still, holding his breath and straining to make out the sound again. For a moment there was only silence and he began to think that he must have imagined it, but a second later he heard a muffled voice from the other side of the door just across from him. True to his name, he was on the other side of the hallway in a flash and cautiously pressed the side of his head against the thick wooden doorway, trying to make out what was being said on the other side. He grinned excitedly when he recognized the voices of the elders within the unseen room.

"...we be sure about the accuracy of these reports?" one voice was saying sceptically. "It all seems a little difficult to believe in my opinion."

"I do not think there is any doubt," another deep voice rumbled, and this time Flash recognized it as the chief elder. "Three different scouts have reported sightings, all in roughly the same area."

There was a deep, tense growl before another of the elders declared, "I knew those messengers from Warfang couldn't be trusted. For weeks now they've been telling us that all danger has passed. If that's the case, what are grublins doing in our mountains?"

Flash sucked in a startled breath, his eyes going wide in shock. _Grublins? In the mountains?_ A small prickle of fear began to rise in his chest at the thought of the foul creatures he had heard so many stories about so close to their home.

"Perhaps it's only an isolated incident?" a female voice suggested. "We have no reason to believe that the Warfang dragons are purposefully misleading us. It seems too unlike the guardians to do something of the sort."

There was a short pause as the other elders apparently considered her words.

"It is of no importance," the chief elder grunted finally. "Whether or not Warfang tried to deceive us does not change the fact that there is still danger present outside our shelter. We must take all measures necessary to ensure the safety of our village."

Deciding that he had heard enough, Flash began slowly creeping back down the hall toward the top of the curved staircase, his mind racing with jumbled thoughts and question.

_Why would there be grublins in the mountains?_ he wondered anxiously. _They've never come this far west before._

He was so distracted by his worried thoughts that he didn't notice the door ahead of him swing silently open, nor the large green and black figure that stepped through it right into the young, invisible dragon's path. By the time Flash saw him it was too late to stop himself, and he gave a startled grunt as he bumped headfirst into the large dragon's foreleg, stumbling backwards and becoming visible once again as his focus on his power was disrupted. After shaking the dazed feeling from his head, Flash slowly looked up to see a rather unhappy looking earth dragon with dark green scales and a black chest and wings glaring down at him with hard, dark blue-green eyes.

"M-Master Richter!" Flash stammered, feeling his chest constricting fearfully.

"Coronus," the earth dragon, who was the instructor for the young dragons' weekly elemental training classes, replied in a voice so deep and rumbling that it almost sounded like a constant growl. "And what, might I ask, do you think you're doing here?"

"Umm," Flash began hesitantly, his mind racing to come up with some kind of excuse but unable to form anything. "Well..."

"You should be ashamed of yourself," Richter scolded. "Eavesdropping on the elders? Even I never suspected you would attempt something such as this."

"I didn't mean any harm by it," Flash protested. "I just wanted to know what was going—"

"There will be consequences for this," the earth dragon growled suddenly, cutting Flash off. "However, as it is that will have to wait, since you are due in the central courtyard in only a few minutes. Now, get moving."

Hanging his head, Flash plodded past the much larger dragon toward the stone staircase, Richter following right behind him, and as he walked Flash could feel the other dragon's eyes on him as if ensuring that he didn't try to slip off again. Flash, however, knew better than to try. While he could easily make himself invisible again, Richter would simply be able to feel his movements through the stone floor with his earth element and easily catch him again. No, to try and escape would only make matters much worse.

"I expect better from you, Coronus," Richter said disapprovingly as they reached the bottom of the stairs and exited the council building, and as they passed Flash noticed the guard's look of surprise when he noticed the young white dragon walking past him when he had no memory of said dragon ever entering the building. Richter, however, paid the ice dragon no mind. "You possess an extremely rare and powerful element, and I should hope that you would seek to use it more responsibly."

"Yes, Master Richter," Flash grumbled, still staring at the floor.

He looked up slightly when he heard the sound of another dragon scrambling quickly to his feet ahead. What he saw was Claymore rapidly approaching from the corner of the same side street where he had been waiting before.

"Oh, you found him!" Claymore exclaimed to Richter, succeeding fairly well at making his tone innocent. "I've been looking all over the village for him."

"Indeed," Richter grunted, not sounding very much like he believed the younger earth dragon but pressing no further into the matter. "Aren't you supposed to be heading to the central courtyard now as well, young dragon?"

"Um, yes sir, I am, but I didn't want to leave without Flash here."

Richter merely grunted. "I see. Come along, then."

Claymore nodded obediently and fell into step beside Flash as the three of them headed off down the street again, Flash feeling utterly humiliated at the idea of arriving at the courtyard escorted by one of their instructors. He just knew that he would never live this down. He noticed Claymore shoot him a glare out of the corner of his eye but didn't meet his gaze.

Five minutes later the courtyard came into view ahead, and in it Flash could see about two dozen dragons gathered in its centre all ready, all of them around his and Claymore's ages and representing almost the entirety of the village's younger generation. Flash and Claymore were the only ones missing, and when the crowd noticed them approaching with Richter right on their heels there were several smirks and snickers amongst them.

"And what happened to you two?" Kryos grinned as Claymore moved over to sit beside him, Flash sticking close to his brother's side and seriously considering making himself invisible again just to avoid the teasing smirks he was receiving from the other snickering dragons.

"Nothing," Claymore grumbled in reply, turning another glare in Flash's direction, causing the younger dragon to curl further inward on himself.

"Alright, it looks as though everyone is here now," Richter called out, addressing the group. "All of you, follow me."

Flash looked up in surprise as the large earth dragon turned to depart the courtyard. Master Richter was the one that was going to meet them there all along? But what would their elemental combat instructor want with all of them? Their next elements training class wasn't for another four days. His confusion only grew when, several minutes later, it became clear that the training arena was the group's destination.

"What are we doing here?" Gemma asked curiously, catching Richter's attention.

"Training, of course," the large dragon replied at the same time that the group entered into the main arena floor.

While it was called the arena by all the villages, in truth it was nothing more than a plain circular room with a perfectly flat stone floor and a high, heavy ceiling held up by four evenly spaced support columns—one of which, Flash noted with embarrassment, still bore a scorch mark from a certain ill-aimed beam of light. The only thing that made the place special was that it had been infused with the powerful, mysterious magic that allowed it to create training dummies, like the old temple in the swamps and several similar chambers in the other largest dragon villages.

"Training?" Kryos repeated, shocked.

"But we're only supposed to train once a week," Raenna piped up, appearing next to the ice dragon from farther back in the group.

"You _were_ only supposed to train once a week," Richter corrected, turning around to sit facing the group of confused young dragons. "The elders have quite recently decided to begin gradually increasing your training schedule, however."

The reaction amongst the students was a mixed one. While they were all excited by the idea of being allowed to practice with their elements more often, the mystery behind this sudden and unexplained decision left many of them with an uneasy feeling. Flash, however, had slightly more information to go on than the rest of the dragons, and for him things were beginning to fall into place.

"Does this have anything to do with the..." he began, only to cut himself short when Richter turned a hard, warning glare in his direction. Gulping nervously, Flash sat back and dropped his gaze. Claymore, meanwhile, turned a suspicious look in his direction.

"All that you need to know at this point is that the elders felt it would be prudent to increase the competence of our younger generation in self defence. After all, despite rumours of the war being over it is far from certain that the outside world is safe. Everyone must be ready to protect themselves and their homes at any time."

"Then why only start increasing our training now?" a young electricity dragoness—who happened to be the only one of her element in the group—asked curiously. "Why not when the war was at its peak?"

"Because it was the general consensus that at that time you were not yet old enough to begin the more intensive regimen," Richter replied evenly. "In times of peace, young dragons are often taught the ways of combat and the uses of their elements over the course of about two or three decades, starting when their elements first start to develop. The more intense training usually does not begin until they are much older than most of you are."

"That's a long time," another young dragon whistled.

Richter nodded. "It is, but it is essential to spread out the process so that the student may learn the discipline required so that they don't get carried away with their powers. In recent history there is only one known dragon for whom this practice was disregarded because of his natural...promise...and I think we all know how that turned out."

An uncomfortable silence ensued, everyone knowing full well who their instructor meant and the chaos and terror that he had caused because of his lust for power.

"Then why is our training being increased, if you're worried about it?" Raenna said quietly after a minute had passed.

"As I said, in light of recent events the elders have decided that you need to know how to defend yourself in case the need ever arises. Now, that's enough talk. Let's get started. The day is wasting."

The young dragons all nodded their heads quickly and hurried to spread out along the walls of the arena, as was the normal practice during their regular combat training classes.

"During our last session we focussed on close quarters physical combat," Richter began in the usual authoritative tone he adopted whenever teaching. "Today, then, we will work on practicing with your elemental breath attacks."

An excited murmur went up from the crowd of students, but silence fell again quickly when Richter's gaze hardened into another glare.

"However, today will be a little different than what you're all used to," he continued with a mysterious tone behind his voice.

"How come?" Kryos asked curiously. "Are we not fighting training dummies like we normally do?"

"Fighting training dummies, yes," Richter nodded. "But like you normally do? Why don't you see for yourself?"

As he spoke a patch in the centre of the floor began to writhe with a swirling misty energy. The mist surged upward with a small flash before collecting into a solid object. However, unlike the patchy, cloth-and-straw mannequins that normally appeared, this time they were greeted by something entirely different. It looked..._real_.

"What is that thing?" Gemma gasped as she and the rest of the students stared at the strange creature that hovered on insect-like wings in the centre of the arena.

Flash narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized the odd looking thing. It looked almost like some kind of a cross between a bug and a haphazard lump of earth, with a lumpy body, a back that looked like it was covered in long grass and two bright red eyes. In one hand it held a short, rough wooden club. All of the students were staring at the creature in apprehension but mostly confusion. Flash, meanwhile, had a strong suspicion that he knew what it was.

"This is a grublin," Richter replied calmly, hardly even glancing toward the small creature as it hovered in place, very much animated and alive but not making any kind of move to attack yet. "Specifically, it's one of the two more common varieties that you would be likely to encounter."

"So that's what a grublin looks like?" Gemma asked. "Eww, it's gross!"

Richter chuckled briefly. "That it may be, but they aren't to be taken lightly either. These airborne ones are not quite as strong as their earthbound counterparts, but their added agility makes them quite dangerous in numbers." His expression then brightened suddenly with eagerness. "So who would like to try their hand against this one?"

Nobody answered, and it seemed as though this was what Richter had been expecting. All the students were still gazing out warily at the hovering grublin and its very solid looking club, and no one seemed to be very eager to try attacking the unsettlingly life-like dummy. It seemed reasonable to assume that, since it looked more like the real thing, it would probably act more like the real thing as well and therefore be much more difficult to defeat than the regular dummies they normally practiced against.

"No one?" Richter said, sounding disappointed. "Well, I guess I'll just have to pick someone, then. Claymore, you're always the eager type. Step on up."

Beside Flash, Claymore gave a low groan before rising to his feet and slowly stepping out from the group of young dragons, moving out to stand close to Richter's side. Once he was in position Richter stood and moved back a few paces, giving his student more room to work. The grublin dummy turned in the air to face its new opponent.

"Now remember, this exercise is meant to focus on your breath attacks," Richter instructed in a steady voice. "This is to simulate an actual combat situation: these flying grublins are quite quick, and it is normally very difficult to close in on them enough to use physical attacks, so a dragon often has to resort to their breath attacks. And remember, this is only practice. Be careful where you aim your attacks. We don't want anyone getting hurt. Are you ready?"

After only a brief hesitation Claymore nodded and settled into a ready stance, low to the ground and ready to dodge or attack quickly if the need arose.

"Good. Then begin."

As soon as the words were out of the large earth dragon's mouth, the grublin charged forward with a guttural screech that grated on the ears of everyone present, causing the students to cringe uncomfortably and shy away from the sound. Claymore, however, watched the creature's attack steadily, timing his response. When the dummy had crossed about half the distance to the young dragon Claymore reared his head back, sucking in a huge breath before shooting out a large blast of glowing green energy from between his jaws. Flash had been certain that the earth blast would have found its mark for sure, but to his surprise the grublin somehow managed to dodge up and around it, charging Claymore from above and raising its weapon high over its head.

With a startled cry Claymore quickly rolled to the side, barely avoiding getting caught by the club as its hardened tip crashed into the stone floor with a sharp thud, sending stone chips flying into the air. With surprising agility, as soon as he was on his feet Claymore spun around and brought up the club on the end of his tail, catching the grublin in the chest and knocking it back through the air. The crowd of students cheered excitedly.

"A good move," Richter said approvingly. "But remember, we're trying to practice your elemental attacks. Try and stay at range."

"Yes Master Richter," Claymore grunted as he ducked another swing from the grublin, jumping backward to place some room between him and the dummy.

He fired another earth blast, this one significantly larger than the one before it, but again the grublin managed to spin away just in time. Claymore tried again, and again, shooting out successive blasts of elemental energy as quickly as he could draw in a breath, but despite his best efforts the grublin stayed one step ahead of him each time, and Flash was amazed at how quick the creature really was.

"And he expects us all to fight those things?" a student mumbled to one of his companions, near enough that Flash could overhear.

Another sharp cry from the grublin grabbed their attention, and Flash looked back over at his brother just in time to see the earth dragon finally score a hit with his earth blast. The grublin was knocked back through the air by the focussed, close range shockwave, tumbling clumsily for a moment before finally managing to right itself. Seeing his opponent vulnerable, Claymore leapt forward with an eager snarl, readying one final blast of energy to finish his foe.

"Yeah, Claymore!" Kryos called excitedly from the sidelines. "You've got him now!"

Flash watched in anticipation as his brother bore down on the dummy, also certain that the earth dragon was going to land a finishing blow within moments. But just as Claymore unleashed his earth blast the grublin suddenly shot straight up in the air, dodging the attack by a hair and whooping triumphantly. Claymore gave a startled cry as he stumbled and fell, caught off guard by the grublin's sudden movement and unprepared for his impact with the floor.

"Claymore!" Flash cried anxiously as his brother rolled to a stop on his side on the hard stone floor, appearing mildly dazed.

Now the tables were turned, and it was the grublin that dove in to take advantage of its opponent's vulnerable position. Screeching with dark eagerness, the creature shot down through the air with its club raised high, ready to smash it into the downed earth dragon. Flash could hardly watch.

What happened next was so sudden that it left everyone in the room dazed for a moment. When he saw the grublin charging toward him it seemed as though Claymore's instincts took over. In a flash he had rolled over onto his back and sucked in a massive breath of air. Then, suddenly, an earth missile burst forth from between his gaping jaws and sped toward the dummy. The grublin only had time to utter a startled squeak before the rocky projectile struck it dead on, the dummy's body breaking apart in a flash of light only a second later amidst a cloud of dust.

"Very well done!" Richter exclaimed proudly. "I'm impressed, Claymore. Your first earth missile, and it was a bull's-eye!"

"Thank you, Master Richter," Claymore panted, grinning excitedly as he picked himself up off the floor. "I don't even know how it happened. It just...came out."

"Indeed, learning by instinct is quite common in this kind of exercise. You should be proud of yourself, Claymore. Earth missiles are one of the more difficult breath attacks for earth dragons to master, but once you have they can be incredibly useful. Now, clear the ring and let's have someone else give it a try."

Claymore nodded and quickly retreated over to his waiting classmates, who greeted him excitedly and offered several congratulations as he made his way back to his brother's side.

"That was great!" Flash exclaimed once his brother had sat down.

"Thanks," Claymore grinned, panting slightly from the workout and adrenaline. "Man, that thing was fast!"

"No kidding," Kryos snorted from Claymore's other side. "Nice of it to fly straight at you for that last shot, though."

Claymore scowled good-naturedly and shoved the other dragon on the shoulder.

The next battle took considerably longer than Claymore's did. The fire dragon that stepped into the ring had obvious difficulty keeping up with the quick movements of the training dummy, soon finding himself boxed in by the ugly creature and having to spin around on the spot shooting out frequent bursts of flame to try and keep his opponent at bay. Finally, by sheer luck, several minutes into the fight one of the dragon's waves of flame caught the tip of one of the grublin's wings, singeing it badly. While the creature was distracted by the sudden pain and heat, the fire dragon let out a focussed jet of fire that consumed the dummy in seconds. When the fire ceased, all that was left was a few pieces of ash that floated slowly down to the floor.

The class progressed much in the same manner for the next couple of hours, each of the young dragons in the class taking turns to fight against the flying grublin dummies. Most won their fights, but quite often it was a close thing and luck played a large part in it. After each battle Richter would offer advice or criticism before promptly dismissing the student from the ring and calling the next combatant forward. On a couple of occasions the large earth dragon was forced to step in and intervene when the student found themselves in a vulnerable position and risking injury from the hard clubs of the dummies. In each of these cases the unsuccessful student would receive a stern telling off about minding their position and being more careful, since in a real combat situation there might not be anyone there to help them. That was Richter's style: congratulating those who succeeded, and never hesitating to point out the shortcomings in those who failed. It was a harsh teaching method, and quite often Flash wondered if it would only end up discouraging the students to the point that they just quit. Surprisingly, though, this had yet to happen, and Flash suspected this was likely due to another of Richter's firmer teaching points; supporting your peers. Whenever a student found themselves on the receiving end of one of Richter's scathing comments or criticisms, their friends were always there to encourage them to keep trying.

Flash, however, didn't have such a network of support, with the obvious exception of his brother, and as a result as the class wore on he found himself dreading more and more the time when he would inevitably be called forward to try fighting the grublin dummies. At last, when almost all the other students had gone forward, Richter turned his head toward the young white dragon.

"Coronus," he said, his voice containing a cold edge, and Flash could tell by the look in his eyes that he was still upset over catching him in the council building earlier. "You next."

Flash hesitated nervously for a moment before giving a sigh and stepping slowly out from the crowd of students. As he entered the training ring he glanced toward the earth dragon student who had just gone before him and felt a rush of apprehension when his eyes fell on the large bruise the other student had sustained on their shoulder from their dummy opponent's club. He forced a nervous swallow and tried to suppress the sudden image that flared in his imagination of a grublin bearing down on him with its weapon raised high, ready to deliver a crushing blow.

"Now, remember," Richter said sternly when Flash was in position. "Try and use only your breath attacks. And for the love of the Ancestors, be careful with them."

With that he backed away, and to Flash it seemed as though he left a little more space between them than he had for the other students. The other gathered students had all gone silent by this point, watching Flash with keen attention, their eyes boring uncomfortably into him. Nervously, Flash sought out his brother, and when their gazes met Claymore offered him a reassuring smile.

"Are you ready?" Richter asked a moment later.

_No_, Flash thought, but regardless he nodded and tried to suppress the nervous tremors that ran through his body.

"Then begin."

A grublin dummy burst up from the floor on the other side of the ring, and Flash gasped in fear as it charged straight for him, a clear lust for blood flashing in its crimson eyes. With a fearful cry he jumped sideways as the grublin swung its club downward, narrowly avoiding having the tip of his left wing snapped by the blunt weapon. He then ducked low to the ground as the grublin swung again before hurriedly backing away.

"Come on, now, Coronus!" Richter said impatiently. "Attack it! Don't just wait for it to hit you!"

Flash yelped again as the grublin's club swept toward him and jumped backward, actually feeling the air rush past him as the tip of the club missed his iridescent chest scales by inches. Then he cracked his jaws open, and an instant later a nearly blinding beam of white light burst from his mouth, the beam forming into a narrow stream of energy that missed the grublin by a hair before striking the rock wall of the arena, creating a small scorch mark on the stone.

"Watch your aim," Richter cautioned him. "With your element especially, you don't want to hit anyone by accident."

_Tell me about it_, Flash grumbled in his mind as he rolled away from another strike by the grublin.

Though he did usually enjoy practicing using his elemental powers, it was in situations like this that he often wished he had a different element. If any of the other students missed, with the exception of the electricity dragoness, their breath attack would dissipate after a short distance and so it was much harder to hit someone by accident if they missed their target. With Flash, however, the prospect of a miss was far more nerve-racking. Even he didn't know what the range of his breath attacks was, and in that confined space if he did miss his target there was nothing except the wall to stop the beam afterwards, meaning he had to be extremely careful not to shoot one in the direction of the other students.

He fired another light beam, this one coming even closer to hitting the grublin, but somehow the agile creature managed to twist its body out of the way at the exact moment that Flash attacked, causing the beam to impact the floor on the far side of the room. Growling with frustration, his whole body trembling from adrenaline, anxiety and growing weariness, Flash began backpedalling to try and keep some space between him and his opponent while he lined up another shot.

"Come on, Flash!" Claymore exclaimed from the side of the arena. "You can get him! Just focus!"

_I'm trying!_ Flash thought bitterly, wishing fervently that the battle would just end. He had long since lost track of just how long the training battle had lasted, but to his aching muscles it felt like an eternity. He was panting heavily as he struggled to avoid the grublin's never-ending attacks, trying all the while to find an angle where he could attack without risking hitting anyone else by accident. The other students were obviously growing impatient, for they were now calling out from the sidelines.

"Just get on with it, already!"

"Blast the stupid thing and be done with it!"

"What's the matter? Forgot how your element works or something?"

Flash tried to ignore their comments as best he could, still trying to find an opening to attack. A couple of minutes later, though, circumstance forced his hand. Exhausted by all the running and dodging, one of his back paws slipped on the stone floor and he stumbled, rendering him instantly vulnerable. The grublin seized the opening, charging forward with weapon raised.

Out of desperation, Flash closed his eyes gathered all the power he could in a split second before unleashing it all at once. The resulting flash of light that burst from his body was so bright that anyone looking at him—which at that moment happened to be everyone in the room—was temporarily blinded by it.

The move he had just used was a natural defence that he had stumbled across very early in his life, when he was only a couple of years old and his element was just starting to develop. His brother had snuck up and pounced on him by surprise, and out of sheer terror his power had exploded out of him, stunning his older brother badly and giving him a splitting headache for the rest of the day. It was this incident that was the source of his nickname.

Now the grublin gave a startled yelp as the searing pain stabbed into its eyes and turned away, covering its face with its free hand. Flash knew this was the best chance he was ever going to get, the grublin hovering in place at point blank range. He quickly sucked in a large breath of air, ready to unleash the finishing strike.

Unfortunately the grublin seemed to have heard the attack coming, for at that same moment it swung its weapon blindly at that dragon. The end of the club caught Flash on the side of the head at the exact moment that he released the beam of light, causing the powerful attack to shoot off target and slam into the wall just above the heads of the gathered students, impacting with enough force to crack the stone and send dust and stone chips raining down on their heads. Several of the dragons let out squeals of surprise and fear, ducking down under the cover of their wings.

"Enough!" Richter shouted, jumping to his feet, and at that instant the dummy vanished in a puff of smoke, Richter dismissing it by a mental command the same way he had summoned it.

Flash cringed, knowing that he was most likely in serious trouble for what had just happened. Slowly he turned his head, and a terrible sinking feeling overcame him when he saw the anger burning in his instructor's eyes.

"This lesson is over," Richter growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. "All of you are dismissed."

No one dared question him, and the young dragons all filed quickly out of the room while shooting frequent glares in Flash's direction. Only Claymore lingered. Flash moved after them, hoping to escape the scolding he knew was coming, but he had no such luck. He immediately found himself restrained by a large forepaw.

"And just what do you think you were doing?" Richter asked, his hard tone causing a chill to run through the small white dragon. "I specifically told you that the point of today's training was to work on breath attacks. What was that, then?"

"I was just trying to stun it so I could get a clear shot!" Flash protested, his voice quavering slightly. "It was moving around so much that I was worried I was going to hit someone else by accident."

"Which you nearly did anyway," Richter pointed out.

"Because it hit me!"

"Even if it did, you shouldn't be using that much power in your attacks during a training exercise!" Richter snapped. "This is the same thing that happened a few weeks ago when you almost took out that column! You need to learn some control, Coronus, before you seriously injure somebody!"

"I was just trying to end the fight quickly!" Flash exclaimed.

"Sometimes it's better to end a fight using a series of weaker, strategic attacks than a single all-or-nothing strike. After today's incident, I would hope you take that lesson to heart before something like this happens again."

Flash sighed loudly, his head drooping toward the ground, feeling utterly ashamed and bitter. Why did it always seem that, whenever he made a mistake, it was so much more of a big deal than with any of his classmates? It seemed completely unfair that just because his element was a little more powerful than others', he had to be singled out for criticism.

"Now, go on and try to stay out of trouble," Richter growled. "And don't think that I've forgotten about your behaviour earlier, either. I will be discussing a punishment for you with the elders later, I promise you."

"Yes, Master Richter," Flash grumbled.

"Come on, Flash, let's get out of here," Claymore told him, coming over to his side and guiding him out of the arena by a wing.

Flash made no reply but followed anyway as his brother led him outside. Soon they were alone in the streets of the village, heading back for their home. Flash could feel the first hints of depression coming over him and he gave a loud sigh, his gaze downcast and his wings drooping with disappointment. He felt like he was never going to get better at using his element if his instructors kept cutting lessons short whenever he made a mistake. How would he ever improve if he was never given any second chances?

Claymore easily noticed his brother's trouble and nudged him gently with a folded wing.

"Hey, cheer up," he said, his tone light. "I'll help you practice. Then we'll show them that they're wrong about you."

Flash looked up at his brother in surprise. "Practice? How are we going to do that?"

Claymore merely shrugged, unconcerned. "We'll think of something. Don't worry, buddy. We'll have your element mastered in no time. Then you can show that jerk how wrong he was."

Despite his bitter disappointment, Flash couldn't help but smile at one corner of his mouth from his brother's comforting words. Though he had no idea how they were going to practice using his element when the only time they were allowed to use breath attacks was in training, something about his brother's confidence gave him the slightest glimmer of hope. If only he could be as confident in himself, maybe his problems would sort themselves out somehow.

"So, did you find anything out in the council building?" Claymore asked him, changing the subject.

Flash had nearly forgotten about the conversation he had heard with the elders, and after the initial moment of surprise he related everything he had heard to his brother, who listened in tense silence throughout the short tale. When Flash was finished he gave a low grunt.

"So, that's why Richter had us fighting grublins today," he muttered. "They must be worried they're going to stumble across the village or something."

Flash nodded slowly, having come to the same conclusion. "So, what can the village do about it?"

Claymore gave a simple shrug, shaking his head. "I don't know, Flash. Maybe nothing and just hope that they leave. It's too soon to tell, I guess."

Flash nodded again, looking away thoughtfully. The uneasy feeling was returning to him, and for a reason he couldn't quite put his claw on he had a sneaking feeling that these grublins would have some kind of important role in the future of their village.

Only time would tell.

* * *

><p><strong>I'll try to make the next update quick, but no promises. And don't worry, the main action of this story is going to be starting soon. There's just a little more set-up work left to do, and a couple more characters to introduce (I've already hinted at who it is for those who were paying attention), so stay tuned and keep reading!<strong>

**That's all for now...**


	10. Chapter 9

**Okay, seriously? What is it with these crazy long chapters I'm writing? Once again, I had to cut this chapter off way short of where I was planning for it to end when I saw that I was already up to 20 pages and only halfway through what I wanted to put in for this chapter...**

***sigh***

**Anyway, here you are with chapter 9, part 1...or does that make this chapter 8, part 1 because of chapter 5...?**

**Ugh, I'm so confused...**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 9:<em>

A sharp knocking sound cut suddenly and loudly through the peace of the early morning, and almost immediately upon his bed a young purple dragon stirred groggily, emitting a prolonged groan of irritation at the unwelcome disturbance.

"Who is it?" the faint, tired voice of Sparx grumbled from out of sight behind the purple banner that served to cover his sleeping hollow from the light. "Spyro, make 'em leave. I'm comfy."

Spyro groaned again, sorely tempted to make some kind of retort, to say that he was quite comfortable as well and that Sparx should take charge for once in his life. Why did it always have to fall to the purple dragon to do everything?

The knock came again, more insistently this time.

"Young Master Spyro?" a small voice called into the room from the other side of the door in between knocks. "Are you in there?"

_No, I'm not_, Spyro grumbled in his mind, shifting slightly on his cushions so that he was lying stretched out on his back and wishing that he could just fall back asleep.

It had been the same each morning ever since his and Cynder's return to Warfang. Spyro had been expecting that, after giving them the first day back to recuperate the guardians would begin pushing for the resumption of training, or that they would have some new task for him that would occupy his time in the city. After all, ever since learning what he was he'd had duty thrust upon him. Always there was something expected of him. Always there was a new task that he needed to complete. And while the guardians in fact had given him a new task at the end of that first day, it hadn't been at all what he was expecting.

His new assignment, and that of Cynder, had been to spend the next few days familiarizing themselves with life in the dragon city. Not a specific mission. Not a strict training schedule. Their assignment, basically, was to do nothing, just experience life in Warfang. They were free to do as they wished, and the two of them had eagerly done just that. Spyro, especially, had taken to sleeping in quite late in the mornings, savouring the chance to get a long, full night of undisturbed rest without some terror awaiting him when he awoke. At times he wondered if he was allowing himself to get lazy, but then again whenever he had those thoughts he was forced to admit that he liked it.

The knock came again.

"Does the world need saving again already?" Sparx moaned. "We just got finished saving it!"

Spyro snorted, grinning, though he still had yet to open his eyes. _We?_ he thought. _Funny, I don't quite remember it that way._

The knocking came once again, the loudest yet, and reluctantly Spyro realized that, whoever it was, they weren't about to leave. Grumbling ill-temperedly, he slowly rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself to his feet, taking a long moment to stretch his body out from his head all the way back to the tip of his tail. Then, after blinking a couple of times to make his vision fall into focus, he pushed open the curtain that he had pulled over his bed chamber and descended the steps into the common area. He paused for a moment to glance out the balcony opening, through which he could see the high walls of the temple standing proudly, gleaming in the warm glow of the barely-risen sun. Then the unknown visitor knocked on the door yet again, and with a sigh Spyro turned around and hooked a talon through the iron handle, pulling it open.

"Oh!" the mole standing beyond the doorway stammered, jumping slightly as the door opened and he saw Spyro's sleepy head poking out into the hallway. "Um, I'm terribly sorry to wake you, but the guardians have requested that you meet them as soon as you can in the tournament dome."

Spyro frowned in confusion. What could be happening that the guardians would summon him at this hour?

"Alright, thank you," he sighed, his voice still sounding groggy from having just woken up. He went to close the door but stopped himself suddenly. "Oh, um..."

"Yes sir?" the mole said, looking back midway through turning to leave.

"What's the tournament dome?"

The mole looked surprised by the question. "You mean nobody's showed it to you yet?"

Spyro shook his head.

"Oh, well it's very easy to find," the mole assured him. "It's directly to the south of the temple, just below the courtyards. It's the largest building there with the domed roof."

"Oh, alright. Thank you again."

The mole nodded and gave a small respectful bow before turning and hurrying off down the hallway, glancing somewhat nervously over his shoulder at Spyro periodically as he left as if feeling guilty and anxious about disturbing him. Sighing and shaking his head, Spyro was just about to close the door to go rouse Sparx when he hesitated. Glancing toward the side room containing their beds, he soon heard a soft snore from behind the banner. Sparx had already fallen back asleep.

_Might as well let him rest_, Spyro decided quickly, and without a sound he opened the door the rest of the way and slipped out into the hall. Once the door was shut behind him he began making his way toward the staircase, but he hesitated again when he passed the door to Cynder's room. If the guardians had something they wanted to speak with him about, and it was important enough to have him called from his room, shouldn't he tell her as well?

He spent a long moment standing there, undecided, struggling between not wanting to disturb the dragoness if she was still sleeping, but also knowing that if something of importance was happening then she would want to know.

He was just about to knock on her door when another thought suddenly occurred to him. Maybe this summons was specific to him, and didn't involve Cynder. If something was happening that concerned them both then the guardians would have sent someone to get her as well, probably the same mole that had just woken him now. This wasn't the case, so he decided it was alright to leave her to rest a while longer.

"Sleep well, Cynder," he muttered quietly as he turned and began descending the stairs.

The streets were still cast in the shadow of the surrounding buildings when Spyro stepped outside, making it seem almost like a prolonged twilight had settled over the city even despite the bright sky overhead. As he walked Spyro was frequently stopped in the street by dragons and moles wishing to extend their enthusiastic greetings and admiration. In each instance Spyro was able to excuse himself from them in short order, explaining that the guardians were waiting for him, and all at once he found himself to be extremely grateful for the previously unwelcomed summons. Over the past few days it had been nearly impossible to avoid getting trapped in the streets by the city's residents, but this summons certainly gave him a convenient excuse for a quick getaway without the usual guilty feeling that would have normally come over him for rebuffing the moles and dragons that were understandably eager to meet and speak with him.

Finally, about ten minutes later Spyro had managed to circle around the temple grounds and a large building that he thought must be the tournament dome came into sight ahead. It was certainly the largest structure around, except of course for the temple, and the roof was indeed shaped like a wide, low dome. Eager to get out of the streets, Spyro picked up the pace and soon had dashed through the front door.

"Ah, Master Spyro!" a mole just inside the main hall greeted him as if he had been expecting the young dragon's arrival. "There you are. The guardians are on the arena floor waiting for you. If you'll just follow me, I'll take you to them."

Finding the mole's calm and professional demeanour quite refreshing after the citizens outside, Spyro quickly followed the short creature as he scampered at a rapid pace through the large stone hallways of the expansive building.

"So what exactly is this building for?" Spyro asked as they walked, craning his neck to look all around at his surroundings. "I mean, the name gives me a pretty good idea, but..."

The mole chuckled. "Indeed, the name does speak for itself. Not the most creative, in my opinion, but it is what it is. Yes, this building is primarily a large arena for all kinds of public events, but it also doubles as the city's primary training ground and even sometimes as just a basic workout area for the city guard. The vast majority of the space in the building is devoted to the arena floor, and almost all the rest is for the stands."

"What kind of tournaments were held here?"

"Just one, actually, but it was certainly a spectacular event! You see, before the war, the Warfang Tournament was quite a famous event in these lands. Every three years dragons from all across the Dragon Realms would travel to this city to prove their strength against opponents just as determined as they were. The tournament usually stretched over the duration of three days, but it was accompanied by a week-long festival throughout the city." The mole gave a long sigh and smiled. "It was truly a spectacular thing to behold. Of course, that was a long, long time ago."

"So dragons would come to the city just to fight each other?" Spyro asked, puzzled.

The mole glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Put simply, yes, but it was far more than that, young dragon. Since the only fighting you've ever done is for survival, it's not surprising that you have reservations about doing any more of it. However trust me when I say that sparring for the simple sport and enjoyment of it is quite a thrill. There are stories of some quite spectacular battles that occurred during these tournaments. But for the participants, the allure isn't just the chance to prove their skills. Believe it or not, a lot of comradery is developed between the participants during the event, and often times bitter rivals in the ring would leave this city as new lifelong friends."

"Really?"

The mole nodded, smiling. "Yes indeed. Maybe now that the war is over, someone will have the presence of mind to restart the tradition. Once you see the festival in all its glory, you'll understand." Then he chuckled. "We might even get a record turnout, what with dragons from all over the lands just itching for a chance to test themselves against the great purple dragon—if you chose to participate, of course."

Spyro paused hesitantly, and the mole laughed.

"Well, at any rate, that matters little right now. There's quite a lot of work that needs to be done before our world is in a state to permit such an event."

A silence fell between them as they both drifted off into their own thoughts. Spyro glanced away distantly as he tried to picture the event that the mole had described in his mind. What would it be like, he wondered, to see Warfang packed to overflowing with dragons visiting from every corner of the lands, the streets bustling and brightly decorated as the celebrations swept over the city, all centered around the grand building in which they were now walking. He found it difficult to imagine, but at the same time the idea certainly seemed appealing.

_Maybe someday I'll see it_, he thought wistfully. _Someday..._

He frowned a moment later, however, as the pair rounded a corner and Spyro suddenly became aware of distant sounds echoing down the corridors toward them. As they drew nearer, Spyro realized that they were the sounds of fighting. He felt a swell of worry within him, wondering if there was some kind of trouble, but just then the mole let out a low chuckle.

"It sounds as if the guardians decided to let loose a little bit while they waited," he said. "That sounds like quite the training battle going on out there."

"What do you mean?" Spyro asked, confused. "Are they fighting each other?"

"You'll see," was all the mole said in reply.

Puzzled and still feeling a little concerned, Spyro nonetheless resigned himself to wait silently until he could see for himself what was happening. The sounds of battle continued to grow louder as they proceeded through ever-narrowing corridors until, finally, after rounding a final bend Spyro could see a large open space ahead that he assumed to be the arena floor. A moment later they left the hallway behind them and emerged just below the stands on the side of the massive ring, the enormous chamber lit brightly by what must have been hundreds of large torches that formed a solid ring around the outside wall of the room at the back of the stands.

What immediately caught Spyro's attention, however, was the battle unfolding before him.

Unlike what the mole had said, it wasn't the guardians engaging in the contest. Instead they sat in a group off to the side several dozen feet away from Spyro and the mole, watching as the battle unfolded in the centre of the ring. Hunter was with them. Puzzled, Spyro looked into the centre of the floor and was shocked to see Cynder there.

_What's she doing here already?_ he wondered.

What was more surprising was the fact that, at that moment, Cynder was facing off against no less than seven mid-sized ape warriors, their bodies covered in light armour and viciously sharp swords clutched in their hands. Spyro was horrified to see the loathsome creatures inside the city, wondering how in the world they had gotten there and why the guardians were doing nothing to help fight them, but at that moment Cynder dashed to the side and raked her talons across the throat of one of the apes. With a strangled-sounding cry the ape tipped backward to the ground before its body crumbled away in a flash of light. Spyro then relaxed as he immediately realized that the apes were only training dummies, much like those that he had faced in the training room of the old temple except more life-like. Like that training room, Spyro deduced that the arena here was constructed with the power to summon the animated dummies at will.

Now facing six, Cynder looked as if she was entirely at home in the centre of the pitched battle, actually grinning broadly as she easily dodged the vicious swings of the apes and effortlessly countered with physical attacks or her elements. Within seconds one ape that had the misfortune of overextending on an attack was dispatched by a blast of poison to the face. A second was felled as it charged Cynder from behind only to have the dragoness perform a back flip over its head and land with her talons digging into its back, snapping its neck with her jaws an instant later. Two more met their ends when Cynder spun around and unleashed a piercing scream with her fear element, freezing them both in place from pure terror. A single swing of her glinting tail blade dealt swift deaths to them both. All the while Spyro stood frozen on the side of the ring, amazed by her skill and mesmerized by the way she moved, her slender body seeming to flow with effortless grace from one position to another in the ring, the ape warriors never coming anywhere near hitting her.

There were now only two apes left, and these two seemed to be a notch above the others when it came to skill, for they were managing to hold their own against the deadly black dragoness to some degree. It was still obviously a losing battle, however, and only moments later Cynder managed to trip one of the apes with a swing of her tail before spinning around and unleashing a hurricane-force blast of wind at the other, sending it rocketing through the air to smash into the solid stone wall beneath the stands on the far side of the arena, its body breaking apart into nothingness instantly after impact. Now only one remained, but it was soon clear that it wasn't going to go down without a fight.

With a terrible cry the ape leapt high into the air and brought its weapon slicing down, aiming to catch Cynder while her back was turned, but at the last possible second Cynder spun away and the fierce blade clanged against the stone floor where her hindquarters had just been a moment before. Cynder retaliated by slashing her talons downward but the ape managed to block the attack on the flat of its blade. Then, with surprising agility, it twirled its sword and knocked Cynder's forepaw to the side, leaving her exposed for another attack that was only an instant in coming. The ape's sword whipped toward her neck and Spyro was only a split second away from shouting a warning, but before he could Cynder's body suddenly disappeared, merging with the shadows beneath her and the ape. The look of confusion was plain as day on the ape dummy's face as its sword sliced through nothing but air.

What happened next was so fast that Spyro almost missed it. Before the ape could even move out of its unbalanced position Cynder suddenly burst up from the shadows on the floor, surging up into the air and spinning around at the same time, landing a devastating combo attack as she passed the startled ape. First the talons of her right forepaw raked across the ape's chest, followed immediately by the vicious blade on the centre joint of her right wing. Last of all her tail blade whipped up and cut the deepest gash of all, leaving the ape with no less than five horribly deep lacerations from right hip to left shoulder. Slowly, almost as if in slow motion, the dummy tipped over backward before breaking apart and disappearing, leaving Cynder standing alone in the centre of the large, open arena floor.

"Excellent, Cynder!" Terrador exclaimed, a broad smile on his features. "Very well done. I can honestly say that I've never seen that degree of skill in any dragon your age. Very, very impressive."

"Thanks," Cynder replied breathlessly, beaming at the guardian's praise.

"Your mastery of your elements is truly astounding as well," Cyril added. "And you learned entirely by yourself?"

Cynder nodded. "I didn't really have a choice."

The guardians nodded in understanding.

"Remarkable," Cyril muttered distantly.

"Indeed, most admirable," Volteer said, nodding. "Commendable. Estimable."

At that moment Spyro heard the mole beside him clear his throat loudly, and the three guardians, Hunter and Cynder all snapped their heads around at the unexpected noise.

"Spyro!" Cynder exclaimed, surprised but also clearly pleased to see him there.

"Ah, you're here. Good," Terrador said, also sounding pleased. He turned his gaze on the mole and nodded his head. "Thank you for bringing him."

The mole gave a small, respectful bow before turning and walking quickly out of the arena, disappearing from sight down the stone corridor in only a few moments.

"What's going on?" Spyro asked curiously as he began advancing toward the waiting guardians.

"I was up early this morning," Cynder began explaining as she came over to his side. "I couldn't get back to sleep, so I went to watch the sunrise from on top of the temple. The guardians were there, and they asked if I could show them my elemental powers."

"Really?" Spyro asked, surprised. He looked toward the elder dragons. "How come?"

"Simple curiosity," Terrador replied with a chuckle. "After all, Cynder left the old temple before we ever had a chance to get a demonstration of her abilities. As such the only information we had on her powers was what firsthand exposure we had from..." He paused and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "...before."

In the tense silence that ensued, Spyro looked worriedly toward Cynder and saw her shrug with a sheepish half-grin. Much to his relief, however, she didn't seem upset about the mention of her past. Though surprised by this realization, Spyro suddenly felt incredibly proud of her as well. It warmed his heart to see that her efforts to let go of her past were having some success.

"Well, I for one think that there is no need to be dredging up such unpleasant memories at a time like this," Cyril cut in a moment later.

"Yes, yes, you're right," Terrador nodded sharply, as if snapping out of a trance. "Anyways, thank you very much for this, Cynder. It is a very impressive set of skills you have developed."

"Thank you," she said, smiling gratefully.

Terrador inclined his head graciously toward her before turning his gaze on Spyro. "Well, since you've arrived, I suppose we should get down to business. Spyro, would you accompany us back to the temple?"

"Uh, sure," Spyro nodded after a brief pause, surprised by the request. "So, you didn't call me here for some kind of training?"

"Oh, no, there will be plenty of opportunities for that, but at another time," Cyril said, shaking his head.

"Yes," Terrador agreed. "Right now, however, there is something that we wish to discuss with you in a more private setting."

"Oh," was Spyro's simple reply, still feeling slightly confused. "Alright."

"And of course you are more than welcome to accompany us, Cynder," Volteer added quickly.

"Indeed, this matter concerns you as well," Terrador nodded. "Would you like to join us?"

Cynder nodded without the slightest hesitation, and Spyro grinned with amusement at her eagerness. Obviously she didn't want to be left out of anything that was happening in the city.

"Good. This way, then."

The three guardians stood and headed for the corridors leading out of the arena, and Spyro moved to follow them once they'd passed. Cynder hurried to catch up with him, and Spyro smiled happily as she leaned her body against his and quickly nuzzled him under his chin.

"You look like you're still half asleep," she teased him when she pulled back, smirking.

Spyro laughed. "Yeah, well, that's about a half less than I wish I was right now."

Cynder laughed lightly. "What is this, some kind of vacation? You'd think you were royalty or something, the way you laze around all day."

Spyro shot her an indignant look and she laughed again before sighing and leaning her head contentedly against his shoulder. Though Spyro still felt mildly annoyed from her comment, the feeling didn't last at the welcome contact. He had just returned his attention forward when he heard muffled chuckling from behind him.

"What?" he asked indignantly, turning his head to look back at Hunter.

"Oh, nothing," the cheetah smirked, shaking his head with clear amusement. "Don't you two mind me."

"Don't antagonize them, Hunter," Terrador chuckled from ahead, and Spyro felt his face burn with embarrassment when he realized that the guardians were also shooting amused glances in their direction. "Honestly, let the young ones have some peace."

"Of course, Terrador," Hunter said, bowing his head respectfully, though there was still a clear twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

Mercifully, the rest of the trip to the temple took only a couple of minutes. Soon Terrador had led the small party up the many flights of stairs and through various winding corridors until they came to the door of his private chambers. Pushing the door open with a forepaw, he then stood aside and motioned for the others to enter, to Spyro's mile surprise.

"We will be able to speak without fear of interruption in here," the earth guardian explained when he noticed Spyro's puzzled expression. "Go on in. There's plenty of room."

After hesitating a second longer Spyro nodded his head obediently and followed the other guardians inside. Once they were all through, Terrador entered and closed the door behind him.

For a moment Spyro stood in awe of the room laid out before him. It was significantly simpler in design than his own chambers, the guardian's chambers consisting of only the single large, round room, but it was still incredibly spacious. A large desk was set under one of the chamber's two large windows that allowed the morning sunlight to stream in, clearly a workspace for the guardian, while the rest of the room was taken up by various shelves, drawers, and chests of positions. A thick green and brown rug decorated the centre of the cool stone floor, while a large collection of cushions of the same colour scheme was set against the left wall under the cover of a thick curtain. Though Spyro, out of a desire to not be nosy, didn't pay much attention to the various personal items stored on the shelves and chests, he couldn't help but feel his eyes drawn toward the large, worn set of bronze armour hanging from the wall above Terrador's cushions, bearing clear indications of being worn in countless battles, the old, worn surface almost completely covered in scratches, small dents and other tears and nicks attesting to all the action the earth guardian had witnessed.

"You all might as well make yourselves comfortable," Terrador told them, his deep voice shaking Spyro from his distracted thoughts. "Don't be shy."

Cyril and Volteer nodded their heads immediately and found comfortable positions on the floor as Terrador moved to sit over on the right side of the room, between the two windows and facing the gathered dragons and Hunter. Cyril remained sitting off to the side while Volteer lay down on his stomach on the edge of Terrador's rug. Hunter, meanwhile, stepped over to the Guardian's pile of cushions and surprised Spyro by grabbing two of the largest ones off the top without the slightest hesitation, or even asking for permission. He glanced at Terrador to see if he would be upset by this, but the large earth dragon showed not even the slightest reaction. Then Hunter tossed the larger of the two cushions toward Spyro and Cynder before carrying the other over to a corner off to the group's right and sitting cross-legged on top of it. Spyro spent a short moment just staring at the cushion that Hunter had offered him and Cynder uncertainly before exchanging a glance with the black dragoness and finally giving a small shrug. He grabbed the edge of the cushion in his jaws and dragged it closer to the rest of the group before sitting on one corner of it. Cynder curled up on the rest of it, leaning against Spyro's side.

"Good, everyone's settled," Terrador said approvingly once this was all finished. "We can begin, then."

"What's going on?" Spyro asked curiously. "Has something happened outside the city?"

"Oh, no, nothing of that sort," Terrador said quickly, raising a paw reassuringly. "No, the other guardians and I simply had a couple of small things that we wanted to discuss with you, Spyro. And you as well, Cynder, of course, though we had originally planned to tell you separately. It's fine, though; this is easier."

"Okay," Cynder said slowly. "So what is it?"

Terrador seemed to take a moment to collect his thoughts, and Spyro frowned slightly with confusion when he thought he saw a small twinge cross the guardian's expression as he took a deep, steady breath. It was soon gone, though, and when the earth dragon looked up again and spoke it was with a steady voice.

"Well, the other guardians and I have been doing a lot of thinking since the two of you told us all that had happened since we parted ways, seemingly so long ago now. Specifically, about the news of Ignitus's passing."

"Oh," Spyro said, his voice quiet, and he glanced away momentarily as that familiar, dull feeling of loss tugged at him, remembering the difficult conversation from the day of their return and its continuation from the day afterward. Beside him Cynder shot a concerned glance in his direction, and Spyro knew why. It had been an extremely difficult tale for them to tell, even if they had left out the part where Spyro had devolved into his dark form out of grief, for obvious reasons.

"We've been discussing the matter extensively," Terrador continued, bringing them both back to the present. "A few days ago we came to the decision that a full, public memorial service should be held in his honour. It's this that we wanted to inform you of."

Spyro and Cynder waited expectantly.

"The preparations are all well underway. We've been working extensively with the moles for the past few days to get everything arranged. The moles report that everything should be ready in three days' time, so that is when the service will be held. At dawn, three days from now, the city will gather here in the temple grounds to honour our fallen comrade."

Still Spyro and Cynder remained silent, both because they didn't know quite what to say in this situation as they processed all that they were being told, and also because they suspected that there was more coming.

"What we would like to ask," Terrador said a moment later, confirming their suspicions, "is if the two of you would feel up to taking part in the service."

The two young dragons straightened up in surprise at the request, and they exchanged an uncertain look before turning their gazes back toward the guardians.

"Taking part how?" Spyro asked finally.

"It doesn't entail much," Terrador assured them. "Mainly, we're simply asking that those who knew Ignitus closely gather at the front with Cyril, Volteer and I during the service. There will be other small things, of course, but if you agree we'll fill you in on those during the days leading up to the service. So what do you say?"

Again Spyro looked toward Cynder, feeling a little unsure of himself. She also looked hesitant, but after a moment she gave an almost imperceptible nod, and Spyro nodded more firmly back. Then he looked back toward Terrador.

"We would both be honoured to be involved," he declared.

A small smile came across Terrador's features. "I thought you might. Good. Very good. As I said, we'll explain everything in more detail over the next couple of days, but right now we just wanted to let you know. That's that settled, then."

"Was there anything else?" Cynder asked.

The three guardians all nodded.

"In fact there is one more thing," Terrador said. "And it is somewhat related. You see, the day before the service, two guests will be arriving at the city."

"Guests?" Spyro repeated curiously, tilting his head to the side. "What kind of guests?"

"Well, you see, before the war's sudden and considerable rise in intensity several years ago when you first appeared, Cynder, we guardians would frequently travel to the other dragon cities in these lands to assess their general state and that of their defenders. During one of these trips to one of the larger cities to the north-east, we made something of a discovery."

"A rather unexpected one, too, I must say," Cyril added, speaking up for the first time since their meeting had begun.

"Indeed," Terrador chuckled. "A young dragon, just a couple of years younger at the time than you yourselves are now, who showed remarkable promise in the use of the fire element. He caught Ignitus's eye almost immediately. He was young, of course, and something of a handful for his parents, but he had spirit and strength, especially for his age. Ignitus quickly realized his potential, and after speaking with him and his parents he announced that he would like to make this dragon his apprentice to become the next fire guardian."

"Really?" Spyro said, straightening up in surprise again.

Terrador nodded. "When Cyril, Volteer and I returned to Warfang a couple of days later, Ignitus remained behind to begin training the young one, assessing his skills and mentoring him in a broad range of studies that he would need to eventually complete before becoming guardian, a process that would take several years. A month later he left and returned to us in Warfang, leaving the young one's teaching in the hands of his parents and the city elders until the day would come that he would be ready to come here to Warfang to begin his advanced training in the temple under Ignitus directly. The original plan was for that to happen two years ago. Of course, fate put an end to that plan."

"So, this dragon is who's coming in two days?" Spyro guessed.

Again Terrador nodded. "Very good. You see, once the fighting grew so much in intensity years ago, most of the outlying dragon cities and villages were overrun by the sudden surge of enemy forces. When that happened we lost all contact with the young dragon and his family, and it was feared that they were among those killed in the fighting. However, when we re-established contact with the eastern refugee city we eventually received word that in fact the young dragon had survived. When he learned from our messenger that Warfang still stood and that the war was over, he expressed his desire to come here and resume his training as soon as possible. That is why he's coming here now."

"And that is also part of the reason why we selected the date we did for Ignitus's memorial," Cyril spoke up. "We were of the opinion that it was only right that the dragon that was meant to be his pupil was present for the ceremony."

"I see," Spyro said, his tone becoming a touch more solemn. "But what does this have to do with us?"

"I'm glad you asked," Terrador said. "We were wondering if you two might be willing to meet our guests at the main gate of the city when they arrived and guide them here to the temple."

"I'm sure we could do that," Cynder said immediately, turning to Spyro for confirmation, and he nodded without hesitation.

"We'd be happy to."

Terrador smiled. "Good. We'll be sure to let you know when they're supposed to arrive. I'm sure it will be a comfort for them to be greeted by a couple of dragons not too far from their own age. This city will be quite a new experience for them both, I expect."

Spyro nodded understandingly, remembering when he had first seen Warfang and how daunted he had been by the size of it.

"Oh, and one more thing, Spyro," Terrador said suddenly. "Obviously, since we only recently received the news from you, it seems to be a safe assumption that this dragon doesn't yet know of Ignitus's death. I would warn you not to make mention of it until you arrive at the temple, at which point Cyril, Volteer and I will break the news. He was very fond of Ignitus, just as you were, and revealing his would-be mentor's death is something that should be done delicately."

Spyro nodded immediately in understanding. "Don't worry, Terrador. You can trust us."

Terrador chuckled. "Indeed, there has never been any doubt about that. Thank you, Spyro, and you too Cynder. This is a great help to us."

Spyro and Cynder both smiled as they rose to their feet, as if to say that it was nothing.

"Good. That's everything, then. You two go on and enjoy your day. Tomorrow there will be considerably more work to do as we prepare for the memorial service, so you might as well enjoy this last chance to rest while you can."

Both young dragons nodded quickly before turning toward the door and eagerly hurrying out into the hall, determined to take full advantage of this chance to relax for what may be the last time in a while.

However, even as they left the temple, they found their minds still filled with questions about the two guests that would be arriving in the city in only a couple of days...

***.*.***

Two days later found Spyro and Cynder sitting together just within the small courtyard behind Warfang's main northern gate, the same courtyard where the two young dragons had assisted in holding the line when Malefor's armies had tried to penetrate into the city. It was nearing midday, and as such the streets were fairly busy around them. However, due to the fact that they were right at the edge of the city, they found that the activity wasn't to a level that it was overly distracting. For the most part they just ignored the goings on of the city behind them and spent the moment they had to enjoy each other's company.

Or, at least, enjoy each other's company as much as they could with Sparx there.

"Are you sure this was the time the guardians said to be here?" Sparx asked as he 'paced' back and forth through the air in the small courtyard, trying very hard not to look at the two young dragons as they sat together, for at that moment Cynder was doing as she often did now and was leaning snugly against Spyro's shoulder, her head resting against his neck just above his chest. He, meanwhile, had his own chin resting against the top of her head. "I mean, we've been here for almost an hour! And I still don't see what the big deal is about this kid anyway. What's so special that we have to come all the way down here and spend half the day waiting for him to show up? Is he nobility or something, because if he is then you would think he would want to be on time to keep up appearances!"

"Sparx, would you just relax?" Spyro chuckled. "They'll be here eventually."

Cynder snorted suddenly as she tried to contain a laugh, and Spyro shifted his head to look down at her quizzically.

"Just the irony," she explained, barely moving to meet his gaze. "As I recall, you were doing almost the exact same thing not all that long ago in Bayside, and it was _me_ telling _you_ to relax."

"I just took your advice to heart, I guess," Spyro smirked. Then he looked back up at Sparx, who once again was taking extreme care not to look back at them. "You know you don't have to stay here. If you want to leave, I'm sure Cynder and I will be fine without you."

"Oh, no you don't," Sparx retorted immediately. "I'm staying right here to keep an eye on you so you two don't try anything funny."

"How is this keeping an eye on us?" Cynder asked, grinning wryly. "You haven't so much as looked at us for the last half hour!"

Upon hearing her teasing words, Sparx couldn't help but spin around to glare at her. As soon as he saw her snuggled up to his brother, however, a purely disgusted look came over his expression that caused both Spyro and Cynder to laugh.

"Okay, this is killing me," he said in exasperation. "Really, I don't want to know, but it will drive me insane if I don't know. _How_ did this happen?"

"What do you mean?" Spyro asked.

"What do I—" Sparx blurted. He gestured emphatically with his hands at the two of them. "_This!_ I mean, the last time I saw you two before you left, you were, what, good friends, maybe? And that I was okay with. I could live with that. But then, one month later, you show up back here and you're..."

For just the briefest of instants he looked almost like he might be sick, and though Spyro would normally be amused by this he was beginning to find Sparx's over-dramatization of the whole situation just a little bit tiring.

"Sparx, why does this have to be such a big deal with you?" he sighed. "It just happened, okay?"

"But that's what's bugging me!" Sparx insisted. "I don't know, maybe if I knew the whole story it would be easier for me to get it out of my mind, but just the shock and mystery of it all is really messing with me! Come on, give me something here."

"You actually want to know?" Cynder asked sceptically.

"No! But as long as I don't know I'm never going to have any peace, so let's just get it over with."

Spyro paused for a moment in consideration, wondering if he should take pity on his brother but at the same time not very much liking the way he was demanding an answer. He glanced toward Cynder, wondering what her opinion was.

"I suppose it help would pass the time," he said at length.

"Aw, do we have to?" she asked with disappointment clear in her voice. "I was really enjoying torturing him with this."

Spyro gave her a look that was half amused and half disapproving, and she sighed heavily.

"Oh, fine."

"Just try and keep it to the bare minimum on details, okay?" Sparx said uncomfortably.

"Okay, Sparx," Spyro sighed with a half-grin, shaking his head.

Over the next several minutes the two dragons told Sparx about everything that had happened since their escape from the centre of the world, focussing especially on the time they had been able to spend together in peace in Bayside as their true feelings for each other had become more and more clear. While Sparx clearly wasn't enjoying the story, Spyro was glad to note that hearing about how hard Cynder had worked to save his life seemed to have some effect in alleviating a small amount of the dragonfly's distrust of her. When she confessed how terrified she had been that Spyro wouldn't make it, Sparx was genuinely shocked.

"You were really that scared?" he asked in a hushed voice, his eyes wide with surprise.

Cynder nodded, her expression tight. "Yes. I've never been more scared of anything in my life."

Sparx let out a long, low whistle and rubbed the back of his head numbly. "Wow. I have to admit, when I made you promise to look after him I didn't think you would go to _that_ kind of lengths to do it."

"Why not?" Cynder asked defensively. "I cared about his safety too, you know, and on top of that I take promises seriously!"

"Whoa, hey! Easy! I get it. I just wasn't expecting that much, that's all." He gave a tense sigh and paused for a moment to collect his breath before continuing, "So, my question still hasn't been answered. What happened next?"

After a brief pause the pair continued their story, telling Sparx about their flight to the falls and how, that evening, they had confessed everything. This was the point where Sparx clearly wasn't enjoying himself at all, but when they reached the end of their tale he seemed caught by surprise by the ending. He just hovered there for a moment staring at them before finally speaking.

"That's it?" he asked, sounding somewhat underwhelmed. "Here I was expecting some kind of mushy, disgusting, nauseating story straight out of a nightmare, but all that really happened was that Spyro started babbling like some idiot?"

"Hey!" Spyro exclaimed indignantly. "I'm not denying that, but that still hurts."

"Oh, come on, it wasn't so bad," Cynder laughed. "It was a very elegant little speech."

"Yeah, for Volteer maybe," Spyro snorted, and Sparx nodded his head in agreement. "Oh, dear Ancestors, I was so embarrassed."

"Well I thought it was sweet," Cynder said reassuringly, smiling and nuzzling him gently under the side of his jaw, and Sparx immediately made a disgusted noise and turned away.

Spyro didn't believe her in the slightest, but he didn't press the matter any further.

Just at that moment, Spyro suddenly heard some kind of commotion from the top of the wall ahead. Puzzled, he looked up toward the battlements. Cynder and Sparx also seemed to notice the disturbance and looked up as well. A few seconds later they could just make out the call of one of the mole guards over the sounds of the city behind them.

"Who goes there?" was the call, but the dragons and Sparx were unable to hear the reply after that. It seemed as though the guard was satisfied with the answer, though, because only a moment later they heard him shout out, "Open the gate!"

"Think it's them?" Spyro asked Cynder.

She nodded quickly, and beside them Sparx gave a relieved sigh.

"Finally!" he exclaimed. "I'm seriously tempted to give this guy a piece of my mind for making us wait this long!"

Spyro rolled his eyes, and beside him Cynder snorted with quiet laughter.

They all became serious as the gates began to grind slowly open, however. As they slowly swung in toward the courtyard the purple dragon felt a small twinge of anxiousness run through him. What would this dragon be like, he wondered? If he was such a skilled fire breather that he was selected almost on the spot to become the next fire guardian, Spyro couldn't help but wonder if there was something tremendously important or intimidating about him. Still, he tried not to let his worries show as he stood waiting patiently for the gates to open enough to let the unknown travellers through. Finally, almost an eternity later, the gates ceased moving and silence descended over the courtyard.

_Here we go_, Spyro thought nervously.

For a moment there was no sign of movement through the gates, but then Spyro saw a shadow approaching from beyond the door that was obscuring his vision, then another beside it. A second later two red fire dragons stepped hesitantly through the gate and into the courtyard.

Spyro was caught by surprise by the sight of them, if only because they were significantly younger than he had been expecting. One was male and the other was female, and the male—which Spyro assumed had to be the dragon the guardians had been speaking of—looked to be no more than seven or eight years older than Spyro and Cynder were at the absolute most. As such he was hardly as big as Spyro had pictured him to be, only standing about a foot and a half taller than Spyro and Cynder. The dragoness standing beside him looked to be almost of identical age as Spyro and Cynder as well.

The male dragon was a deep crimson in colour, while his wings and chest scales were of a bright yellow shade. He had two horns on the top of his head that were somewhat similar in shape to Spyro's, curving slightly backward as they rose out of his skull. These horns, as well as his pronounced crest and his wide tail spade were an almost pure white in colour, which made them stand out strikingly against the darker shade of his scales, and Spyro thought it was unusual to see such a contrast of colour on a fire dragon—though, admittedly, he hadn't seen all that many in his lifetime. His eyes were bright red, and the look in them gave him a strong presence, as if he commanded some sort of natural authority. Overall he was of moderate build, appearing to possess a fairly well rounded mix of speed and strength.

The female, meanwhile, was a much softer shade of red, like that of a rose. Her chest and wings were a soft, deep pink, while like her brother her horns, crest and tail spade were white, though not quite as bright as his and with a slight golden tint to them when the light shone on them just so. While in her brother the bright white crest and horns were the most eye-catching features, for her it was her eyes. They were a bright green that contrasted surprisingly with the rest of her colouring, and again it was a feature that Spyro thought was slightly unusual for a fire dragon. However, unlike her brother, her eyes didn't contain the same strong light in them, and she seemed to tend to curl her thin, almost frail-looking body in on herself nervously.

Shaking off his initial surprise, Spyro began walking toward the two visitors with Cynder and Sparx by his sides as the gates slowly began to swing closed again. After swallowing nervously and taking a deep, steadying breath, Spyro called out to them.

"Hello there. Are you the dragons that are supposed to meet the guardians today?"

Both dragons whipped their heads around at his call, and when their gazes fell on him their eyes nearly bugged out of their skulls in shock.

"My name is Spyro," Spyro continued, feeling somewhat awkward under their incredulous stares. "And this—"

"You're the purple dragon," the male fire dragon gasped, cutting Spyro off mid-sentence. "The one they say defeated the Dark Master."

Spyro allowed a hesitant grin to form at the corner of his muzzle. "With a lot of help, yes. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that I don't know your names..."

"Oh, yes, of course!" the dragon exclaimed, sounding embarrassed, and all at once he shook off his state of shock and proceeded much more confidently. "My name is Sirius, and this is my sister Faren. It is truly an honour to meet you, um...Spyro, you said it was, right?"

"That's right," Spyro said, grinning more easily now, and he inclined his head graciously in greeting. "It's very good to meet you both."

Sirius grinned broadly, and though he still felt slightly intimidated by the red dragon's larger size Spyro couldn't help but smile back. There was just something about his confident stance and his smile that was infectious. He noticed quickly, however, that Faren was on the opposite end of the spectrum and seemed almost to hide behind her brother, appearing extremely nervous whenever Spyro met her gaze.

"You'll have to forgive my sister," Sirius chuckled when he noticed Spyro glancing concernedly in her direction. "She's terribly shy around new people, and I'm sure you can understand that your reputation doesn't exactly help in that regard."

"I suppose so," Spyro nodded, feeling slightly uncomfortable knowing that someone he had never even met before felt so intimidated by him. "But please understand, I don't want you to think of me as being any different than anyone else. I'm just a dragon too."

Sirius laughed. "I hardly think you can be called 'just' a dragon, Spyro. But I respect that, and I'm glad to see that you haven't let fame turn you into some stuffed up jerk with a superiority complex."

"Yeah, well, that's my brother for you," Sparx cut in, hovering closer to the two newcomers. "Too humble for his own good."

Sirius and Faren both looked up at Sparx in surprise, and it was a moment before Sirius finally spoke up.

"Brother?" he said, clearly puzzled, glancing between Sparx and Spyro. "And how exactly does that work?"

"Adoptive brother," Spyro chuckled. "His parents raised me when they found my egg in the swamp."

"Really?" Sirius asked, surprised and obviously intrigued.

"It's a long story," Sparx grunted.

"Yes, it is," Spyro agreed, nodding. "Another time, maybe."

"I'll hold you to that." Then Sirius seemed to finally notice Cynder standing beside Spyro, and a slightly sheepish look came over his expression. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I just realized that I never got your..."

He trailed off unexpectedly, and Spyro was suddenly aware that for some odd reason both Sirius and Faren were now staring at Cynder with a strange expression on their faces, somewhere between shock and wariness. Frowning with confusion, he looked toward the black dragoness to see that she seemed just as confused as he was.

"Um, yes, my name is Cynder," she said uncertainly, appearing uncomfortable under their stares.

At the name 'Cynder', both fire dragons jerked back in surprise and, Spyro noticed quickly, fear. Faren immediately retreated until she was almost entirely hidden behind her brother, and the tension was clear in his body as well.

"Cynder?" he repeated somewhat unsteadily. "But...but how can that...I mean, what are you..."

"Sirius?" Spyro said, growing uneasy in the face of the larger dragon's anxious body language. But while he was confused, inside a suspicious feeling that he knew what had caused the newcomer's reaction was growing. "Are you alright?"

"I-I don't understand," he said hesitantly, glancing away from Cynder toward Spyro for only a split second. "How...What is _she_ doing here?"

The fear in his voice all but confirmed Spyro's suspicion, though inside he had been desperately hoping he was wrong. Beside him Cynder winced noticeably, her gaze dropping toward the ground.

"You don't have to be afraid," Spyro said quickly, moving a touch closer to her protectively.

"I'm not what I used to be," Cynder added, her voice tight, almost pleading them to believe her. "I swear to you, I'm not. Thanks to Spyro, I've changed."

"But...but how..."

"It's a very complicated story," Spyro tried to explain. "But please believe me when I say that Cynder was forced to become what you no doubt heard that she was, against her will. She never had a choice. Malefor forced her to do everything she did."

Behind him Cynder nodded, the look of pain clear in her eyes, and when he saw this Sirius seemed to hesitate, locking on to her gaze and holding it for a long time as if trying to judge from her expression and her body language if he could believe what he was being told. Very slowly, he seemed to relax.

"Is that true?" he asked her.

Cynder nodded again, her expression imploring, and Sirius straightened slowly.

"I believe you," he declared finally.

Spyro let out a silent, tense sigh, and he looked back at Cynder to see her gaze drop once again to the stone street as she heaved a shaky breath.

"Thank you," she said in a quiet voice.

"I believe you, but you have to understand it's not easy," Sirius continued, his voice tense. "After hearing all those horrible stories about the Dark Master, it's not hard to imagine that he would use someone against their will as his servant. And it's easy to see that you are definitely not the same as what you used to be, because you see...my sister and I _have_ seen you before."

Cynder let out a weak gasp, an expression of horror coming over her features, and Spyro immediately shifted closer to her again, not at all liking where this was going and unable to imagine how it was for the dragoness.

"When?" Cynder forced herself to say a moment later.

"A number of years ago," Sirius replied grimly. "On the night that our home city was attacked."

Cynder cringed the most forcibly yet, turning her head away as if to try and hide the shame she felt, and in a strained voice she asked, "I led that attack, didn't I?"

Sirius's only reply was a nod, a sad look in his eyes, but whether he was saddened by the memory of the loss of his home or whether he felt sorry for causing Cynder this pain was unclear to Spyro. He thought it was probably some of both.

"Well, I'm glad to see that you two made it out, at least," she said after a long, tense silence. "And your family, too? I heard your father was the chief elder of the eastern city..."

"Our father made it with us, yes," Sirius nodded, but then a twinge of pain showed in his eyes. "But...our mother died that night."

Spyro faltered, a feeling of sadness and pity washing over him. His concern was solely for Cynder at that point, though. He quickly turned his head to look back at her again and felt his heart sink when he saw the horror and the terrible shame and remorse in her expression. The pain she felt was all too clear, and she closed her eyes tightly and looked away as if trying to fight back tears.

"I have to go," she said suddenly in a terribly unsteady voice. "I'm sorry. I'm so, _so_ sorry..."

"Cynder!" Spyro called worriedly as she turned around and took off running through the streets of Warfang. At that moment he felt a nearly overpowering urge to run after her, but something stopped him. He realized that he couldn't leave Sirius and Faren like that, no matter how badly he wanted to. He still had a job to do. He still had to make sure they reached the temple to see the guardians.

"Sparx," he said suddenly, looking up imploringly at his brother. "Can you go with her?"

"What?" Sparx exclaimed, caught by surprise.

"She needs someone to be with her, but I can't go. Please, Sparx, it's important!"

Sparx just hovered there uncertainly for a moment, grappling with himself, before finally he heaved a relenting sigh.

"Oh, alright," he groaned. "But only for you."

Without wasting another second he was gone, zipping off over the heads of the moles and the few dragons in the streets, soon disappearing from sight in the direction that Cynder had gone. When he could no longer see either of them Spyro let out a long, sad sigh, feeling almost sick with worry for Cynder and hating himself for not being able to be there for her.

"I'm sorry," Sirius said from behind him, startling him.

Spyro turned around to face him curiously. "You're sorry?"

"For upsetting her," Sirius replied, motioning with his head in the direction that Cynder had gone, and he had a guilty look on his face. Though he was slightly surprised that Sirius would be concerned for Cynder, Spyro could easily tell that his words were genuine.

He sighed and looked away. "It's just hard to see her like this. She's been trying so hard to move on, and she's done so much to redeem herself. I just hate seeing that all undone."

"You should have gone with her."

Spyro sighed again but shook his head. "No, the guardians asked me to escort you to the temple, and it's important that I do that. You don't know the city, after all. I'll go check on her after I've taken you there."

Sirius was silent for a long moment, looking as if he felt guilty for keeping Spyro from being where he clearly wanted to be, but finally he gave a relenting nod.

"Thank you."

Spyro nodded in return before turning southward to set off up the street to the centre of the city. "Come on. The guardians are probably waiting."

Together the three of them set off down the street at a slightly hurried pace, weaving their way through the many other bodies that crowded the stone roadway. Spyro noticed that as they walked Faren kept nearly glued to Sirius's side, appearing very nervous with so many people she didn't know all around her and obviously daunted by the size of the city. His attention was brought back to the older dragon when he suddenly spoke up, though.

"Listen, I just want you to know that I don't blame her," he said.

Spyro looked up at him in surprise. "You don't?"

Sirius shook his head after a brief hesitation. "I mean obviously I did at first, but we've long since accepted our mother's death, and I see now that Cynder didn't do what she did by choice. You've made me realize that she's not to blame, and I want her to know that."

Still caught off guard by Sirius's unexpected gesture, Spyro looked toward Faren for some kind of confirmation. After a brief pause she gave a small, hesitant nod of agreement, and Spyro looked back up at Sirius.

"I'll make sure to tell her," he promised. "And thank you. I'm sure that will mean a lot to her."

"Good," Sirius said, giving a weak smile.

It took almost another half hour of mixed walking and flying to reach the temple grounds, and once there Spyro quickly led the two guests through the main doors and toward the inner hall where he was told the guardians were waiting, anxious to drop off the visitors so that he could go find Cynder. When they entered the enormous meeting hall they found the three guardians gathered in the centre of the room, waiting and talking quietly amongst themselves.

"Ah, you've made it!" Terrador said happily when he noticed their entrance. He quickly stood, along with the other guardians. "Sirius, it is very good to see you again. And Faren, you too. You had a safe trip, I take it?"

Both young dragons nodded.

"Good. I'm glad to hear it."

"But where is young Cynder?" Cyril spoke up, looking around curiously. "Spyro, wasn't she with you?"

"She was, but..." the purple dragon began slowly.

"There was some trouble during our meeting," Sirius explained apologetically.

A look of understanding came over the expressions of the three guardians.

"Oh, dear," Volteer muttered.

"If it's alright, Terrador, I would like to go see her now," Spyro said hopefully.

Terrador nodded immediately, concern clear in his eyes. "Yes, of course Spyro. Thank you for bringing our guests. You are excused."

"Thanks!" Spyro exclaimed gratefully before spinning around dashing for the exit of the assembly hall. However, just before he reached it there was a small flash of golden light and Spyro skidded to a stop to find himself face to face with Sparx.

"Hold up there, big boy," he said, spreading his arms out to block his brother's path.

"Sparx? What is it?" Spyro asked in confusion, worried by the grim look on his brother's face.

Sparx gave a tense sigh before saying in an apologetic tone, "She wants to be left alone. Sorry, bro, but I don't think it's a good idea for you to go over there right now."

"But..." Spyro began to protest, only to be cut off by Cyril.

"Allow her some time, Spyro," the ice dragon said in a gentle but firm tone. "She's strong, but even the strongest among us need some space from time to time."

"Cyril is right," Terrador nodded. "Why don't you remain here for now, Spyro? Don't worry, it will be alright."

Spyro remained locked in place for a long, tense moment. An extremely large part of him wanted to just push past his dragonfly brother and run to Cynder as fast as he could, but he was also forced to realize that it probably wouldn't do any good anyway. Though he knew she was hurting, he also knew that she was an extremely independent dragoness. Crowding her now would probably only make matters worse, and would earn him nothing but her anger. He sighed sadly when he was forced to admit that there was nothing he could do.

"She'll be alright in time, Spyro," Terrador said reassuringly as the young purple dragon reluctantly turned around and plodded back over to the group. "You'll see."

"Yes, Terrador," he said meekly.

As he found a place to sit he noticed the three guardians exchanged worried glances, clearly concerned for both him and Cynder, but everyone knew that now wasn't the time to dwell on such things. Terrador cleared his throat and returned his attention to the two young fire dragons.

"Now, down to business I suppose," he said in his rumbling voice.

Sirius nodded quickly, but just then he seemed to notice that something wasn't entirely right. He glanced quickly around the large chamber before turning a quizzical look on Terrador.

"Where's Ignitus?" he asked.

Terrador gave a long sigh, his eyes dropping closed for a moment, and when the two young dragons saw the tense looks on three guardians it seemed as though realization struck them. Slowly a look of shock settled over their expressions. Then Terrador spoke up, a hollow note in his voice.

"I'm afraid that we have some difficult news to give you."

* * *

><p><strong>So I haven't actually started the next part of this chapter yet, so I don't know how long it will be before I'm ready to post that. I'll try to keep it from being too long.<strong>

**Hopefully this is the last delay before I can actually get to the chapters I'm really looking forward to writing. It's gonna be good!  
><strong>

**That's all for now. Until next time...**


	11. Chapter 10

** I actually don't know if I should be amused or annoyed by this. Another chapter finished, and AGAIN I didn't even make it to the spot I wanted to get to by the end of LAST chapter! Oh well, it's fine. I shuffled things around so that the story is still advancing, so no big deal. You just can't rush a good story, I guess. X)  
><strong>

**Anyway, hope you like it!**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 10:<span>_

_A dragon that can't control their element hardly deserves to have one_.

Flash gave a troubled groan and rolled over on his pile of cushions, hearing Richter's scathing voice echoing in his mind. It was past midnight, but Flash had been unable to get even a wink of sleep at all that night. Every time he thought he was about to drift off, he would hear another biting remark from the elemental combat instructor that would drive another pang of bitterness and shame through him.

Of course, most of the things he heard the large earth dragon say in his mind were things that Richter hadn't actually said in reality, but it didn't take much effort on Flash's part to imagine him saying them anyway. Often times the young white dragon thought that his instructor must be thinking something along those lines, even if he never did say it.

_It's so unfair that they always blame me_, he thought resentfully. _It's not like they make any kind of real effort to teach me._

He couldn't deny that he was nowhere near as skilled with the use of his breath attacks as his classmates when it came down to control, and neither could he deny that his element was indeed more dangerous than others if he did lose control of it. However, he strongly felt that, because of this, it was the responsibility of his teachers to at least take him aside and provide him with some more focussed instruction instead of just coming down on him whenever he experienced troubles. It wasn't like it was unheard of for the instructors to offer extra help to other students who were struggling; he had seen a number of cases where Richter would pull a student aside during a lesson to give them some one-on-one help, especially with the earth dragons because, like his, their element could be quite destructive if they ever lost control of it. They controlled the very ground that the rest of the village stood on, after all.

But for some reason his case was different. It seemed as though Richter purposely avoided giving Flash any kind of focussed advice or instruction. He certainly was quick to point out whenever Flash did something wrong, but he hardly ever indicated what he could do to improve for next time when that did happen. Was it simply because his element was so unusual? He was told that no one in the village had ever even heard of light dragons before his egg had been found. Could it be that the elements instructor's apparent dismissive attitude toward him was just his way of disguising his lack of any real knowledge to use in teaching him?

Though Flash wouldn't put that reason past Richter, part of him felt that it was too generous to offer an explanation for his unfair treatment of the young light dragon. He was a jerk, plain and simple, and he didn't need a reason to justify it.

Just at that moment he thought he heard movement outside of his door. A second later he was aware of someone silently creeping into his room, apparently thinking that the small white dragon was asleep. Though the intruder's movements were almost completely soundless, Flash still found the presence easily recognizable.

"If you jump on me, I _will_ blind you," Flash grumbled without even moving or opening his eyes.

"Oh, you're no fun," Claymore griped, though Flash could detect the hint of amusement in his voice.

"And why are you in my room?" Flash asked him, this time turning his head to look at him. In the dark all he saw was a dim outline, but still it was enough to know he was looking in the right direction. "Not that I was asleep anyway, but still..."

"I'm keeping my promise, little brother," Claymore replied simply. "Now up you get."

"Promise?" Flash repeated in confusion, rolling onto his stomach to face his brother better. "What are you talking about?"

"I promised you I would help you practice with your element!" Claymore told him, in a tone that suggested he was disappointed the younger dragon had to ask. "Now come on. I have everything all ready."

"But I don't understand," Flash protested. "We still haven't figured out how we're going to practice without the elders knowing."

"That's what you think," Claymore said smugly, and even in the dark Flash thought he saw his brother grin. "But while you've been in your room moping as usual, I've been coming up with a plan. Where do you think I've been all night?"

"Sleeping."

"Oh, ha ha. No, dummy, I've been setting up our own private training ground! Now come on! Get out of bed! We're going there now."

"Now?" Flash exclaimed. "It's the middle of the night!"

"Exactly. We can't really do it during the day when everyone can see where we're going, can we? Come on, bro, think!"

Flash scowled at the larger dragon, and Claymore gave an exasperated sigh.

"Do you want me to help you with this or not?" he asked impatiently.

"Yeah, I do, but—"

"Good. Then come with me and keep quiet."

Flash groaned but nonetheless pushed himself wearily to his feet as Claymore turned around and slipped like a shadow out of the room, moving with surprising stealth for an earth dragon. Taking great care not to trip over himself in the almost complete blackness, Flash hurried to catch up.

"So where are we going?" he hissed as they stepped through the front door of their small home and into the deserted streets, which were nearly as dark as the interior of their house save for the few scattered patches of light cast by lanterns hung on the larger street corners.

"You'll see," Claymore replied cryptically, at the same time shifting sideways as he walked to avoid a patch of light from one of the lanterns. "It's a bit of a surprise."

"But I hate your surprises," Flash complained. "They always involve doing something that's sure to get us in more trouble than I'm already in."

"Again, you're no fun," Claymore chuckled. "Seriously, though, it's the only way I could think of to practice without anyone noticing, so just trust me, alright?"

Flash sighed. "Alright."

For the next twenty minutes the two young dragons wound their way through the buildings of the underground village, frequently having to make detours to avoid sections of roadway that were too brightly lit to pass by unnoticed or to prevent being spotted by the few other dragons that happened to be in the streets at that late hour. Claymore kept a vigilant watch on their surroundings using his earth element, and was therefore able to detect the approach of any dragons with plenty of warning to find cover. Only once had the risk of detection been such that Flash was forced to use his control of light to render both of them invisible until the ice dragon intruder had passed them by. Finally the buildings began to thin out as they reached the edge of the village and they were able to proceed much more quickly without worrying about being spotted.

Then, a couple of minutes later, Flash faltered and drew to a sudden halt when he realized where they had come.

"The cavern exit?" he asked in surprise, his voice barely more than a whisper as if he were afraid that there were still dragons around that might overhear them. "We're not actually going outside, are we?"

"Of course," Claymore replied, his voice surprisingly calm. "You didn't really think we would be practicing somewhere inside the cavern, did you? The whole village would see the light show!"

"But you can't seriously be thinking of going outside at night!"

Though Flash had never been one to obey without question any rule presented to him, this case was one of the few exceptions. The elders had always been adamant that the younger generation of dragons in the village shouldn't be wandering about outside the cave unattended, except for specified areas at specified times that the elders had deemed to be safe. However, going outside at night was something that they were even more firm on. They had made it unmistakably clear from very early on in their lives that _no_ young dragon was to _ever_ leave the safety of the cavern at night, when the darkness provided cover for any number of unfriendly creatures and when the enemy's forces could travel undetected and possibly spot a careless dragon in the open and follow them back to the village, thereby jeopardizing the safety of everyone in their shelter.

"Why not?" Claymore replied with a careless shrug and a smirk. "I've been sneaking out here for three nights now, and nothing's happened."

"What?" Flash gasped in what was almost horror. "Claymore, the elders said there were grublins out there!"

"And I haven't seen any. Besides, I picked a sheltered spot. Don't worry, it's safe."

Still Flash hesitated, and now he was seriously considering turning back and abandoning this plan. It just seemed far too reckless, even for him, and a feeling of very real fear was rising up inside him.

"Hey, Flash, look at me," Claymore said suddenly, sensing his brother's anxiety and turning a steady gaze in his direction. "You know that I would never make you do anything that put you at risk, right?"

Flash hesitated, but finally he was forced to nod his head, for he knew inside that while Claymore may seem at times careless or foolhardy, deep down he was extremely protective of his brother and would never allow any kind of harm to come to him.

"That's right," Claymore nodded. "You're all I've got, after all. Now, I promise you that I checked the entire area where we're going, many times. Every time, I didn't find _anything_, okay? It's safe. I promise you that. Wherever these grublins are that the elders were talking about, they aren't anywhere near where we're going."

Flash still felt extremely uncertain, but something about his brother's firm words and gaze reassured him and finally he nodded slowly. Claymore gave a small smile before turning toward the cave exit once again.

"So? Let's go do this."

Flash gave a silent sigh before anxiously following the earth dragon outside. He immediately cringed when the stone walls of the cavern fell away to reveal nothing but open space on all sides. Only the mountains that surrounded the valley in which their village was hidden offered any kind of enclosure, and now Flash felt extremely wary and far too exposed for his comfort.

"It's so dark," he complained, glancing around nervously at the blackened outlines of the low trees that surrounded the cave entrance, helping to conceal it but also providing excellent cover for any number of unknown creatures Flash feared might be watching them at that very moment. "The moons aren't even out!"

"What are you complaining about?" Claymore snickered. "You're a light dragon! Make some light or something."

"And completely give away out position to anyone that might be watching?"

"There's no one around," Claymore said calmly, and Flash looked toward him to see the same look of hard concentration he always got when he used his earth powers to sense his surroundings. "But if you're that worried about making light, then I'm sure there are other things you can do."

Flash sighed resignedly, but instead of arguing any more he spent a moment in thought before focussing his attention on the little light that was available in their environment at the present time. After concentrating for a moment, he was able to amplify the light that reached his eyes and all at once he was able to see much more clearly, though the effect took a moment to get used to; he could see clearly, but the contrast between light and shadow was so sharp now that the world around him had a strangely unreal quality to it. All normal colours were washed out as well, leaving barely more than a palette of greys. Still, it was far better than stumbling around in the dark, and feeling somewhat satisfied he turned to look at his brother again.

"Okay, I'm ready," he declared, his voice still hushed.

Claymore glanced toward him, but as soon as he did he let out a startled yelp and jumped away. Flash suspected that it was because whenever he used his power in this manner, a side effect was that it made his eyes glow white.

"Sheesh," Claymore sighed, letting out a long breath to calm his nerves. "It freaks me out every time you do that."

"I thought you said it was cool."

"It is," Claymore nodded, grinning. "But in a freaky way."

Flash scowled at him, and Claymore just chuckled before turning away.

"Come on, it's this way. Follow me."

Claymore quickly spread his wings and leapt into the air, and Flash followed right behind him. The flight was a short one, the earth dragon leading the pair south for a couple of minutes before turning sharply left toward the mountainside, following the steep slope upward. But while the flight was brief Flash was still extremely grateful when they touched down on a small plateau halfway up the mountain, his wings burning from the effort. Living underground, he didn't do very much flying. Of course he practiced enough to make sure he was proficient at it—after all, what good was a dragon if they couldn't even fly properly? However, his endurance was still far less than it probably should have been for a dragon his age.

"So what are we doing here?" he asked curiously.

"Practicing," Claymore replied simply. "I set up this place as a kind of training field. Check it out."

Flash did as he said, looking around the small plateau curiously when his brother extended his wings toward their surroundings. At first he saw nothing, but then he realized that a number of small stone pillars were jutting up out of the ground with a sort of target carved into their fronts. There were four of them in all, set up in a rough line facing away from the mountain.

"What's this?" Flash asked curiously.

"A little something to help you work on your accuracy," Claymore explained. "I'll call out a target, and you hit it as fast as you can. The only rules are that for now you can only use your regular light beams, and you can't move from where you're standing now. Think you can handle it?"

Flash frowned suspiciously when he noticed the mischievous glint in his brother's eyes, his own glowing white eyes narrowing slowly into scrutinizing slits. It was easy for him to see that his brother was hiding something, but he couldn't begin to think of what it might be.

"I think I can hit a couple of little stone targets," he said finally.

"Glad you're confident. Alright then. Get ready."

Flash did as his brother instructed, squaring himself to the four targets and settling into a low, ready stance, silently drawing on his element as he waited for his brother to announce which target he was supposed to hit. He didn't have to wait long.

"Middle right!" Claymore exclaimed.

Flash reacted in only a second, whipping his head toward the target Claymore had indicated and unleashing a bright beam of white light only an instant later. However, to his great surprise, at the exact same moment that he fired his beam the target jerked upward without warning, causing the beam to miss its mark and strike the pillar just below the marked target, blackening the rock. Immediately Flash whirled around to glare at his brother.

"What was that?" he demanded.

Claymore laughed loudly. "Well, obviously it's not a challenge if they just stay still! Come on, it was a _moving_ grublin dummy that gave you so much trouble the other day, so that's what we're going to be practicing. Now, get back in position."

Still irritated by his brother's unexpected trick, Flash nonetheless returned to his designated spot and settled into his ready position again, glaring out at the four targets that for the moment seemed to sit so innocently still. Using his earth power, Claymore returned the first target to its original position before calling out the next.

"Far left!"

Flash reacted in an instant, firing out the beam of light only a second after his brother called out. Just like the last time, though, the target moved at that same moment, his brother somehow able to predict the exact moment that Flash was about to fire and jerking the target downward this time, causing the light beam to miss its mark and strike the side of the mountain.

"Gotta be quicker," Claymore grinned. "Middle left."

This process went on for the better part of an hour, Flash growing steadily more frustrated as his brother managed to cause him to miss his target every time he shot out another beam of light. Just as Flash was beginning to hone in on the targets' up and down movements, Claymore suddenly caused the next one to tip to the side instead of moving up or down, causing Flash to miss by the farthest margin yet. From that point on it was impossible to predict which direction the targets were going to move, and Flash had to struggle to keep up with them.

However, after the second hour he was finally making progress. As he hardened his focus he began to realize that the target would creep marginally in the direction it was going to move before it made its sudden jerk, and by using this queue Flash was able to strike much closer to his target. Not long afterward Claymore stopped giving these clues, but by this point Flash was improving at being able to read their movements and was still able to zero in on the targets until finally, another half hour later, he was able to hit his mark with relative consistency.

"Nice job!" Claymore beamed when he finally called the exercise to a close. "You're really catching on quick, Flash. This is great! When you really set you mind to something, you sure can pull through!"

"Thanks," Flash panted, exhausted by the prolonged use of his element but savouring his brother's words of praise, feeling his spirits lifting slowly. He was amazed himself at how much progress he was making in just his first practice session. The centres of the targets ahead of him were completely blackened from being repeatedly struck with the blazing beams of light, the rock chipped away by the constant attacks until there was a miniature crater in the face of each target. There were just as many misses from earlier in the session, however, and black scorch marks riddled the face of the mountain and the plateau.

"Alright, then I guess it's time to move on to the next test," Claymore declared a moment later when they had both caught their breath.

"What?" Flash exclaimed. "But we've been out here for hours!"

"So?"

"So don't you think we need some sleep? I'm exhausted!"

"Yesterday was the last day of classes for this week," Claymore said unconcernedly. "You can sleep all day when we get back if you want to. But while we're out here, why not take advantage of it? We probably won't be able to sneak out here very often or someone might catch on, se we need to make use of the chance we've got. Now come on. Get up."

Flash groaned tiredly but nonetheless rose to his feet from the spot where he had moved to lie down to rest. He moved back to his previous position and turned to face the targets again, but then Claymore spoke up.

"No, no, the other way," he instructed, pointing with a talon out over the valley.

"What?" Flash said, puzzled. "Why?"

"Because this test is a bit different," the earth dragon replied. "It's going to be a chance for both of us to practice. I'm going to shoot an earth missile out off the edge of the mountain, and then you're going to try and hit it."

Flash's glowing eyes widened in surprise. "Are you kidding? I'll never be able to hit something moving that fast!"

"You won't know until you try," Claymore replied simply. "If you don't want to do it then fine, but I'm going to practice my earth missiles either way."

To reinforce his point, he sucked in a sharp breath before firing a lumpy stone projectile from between his jaws and watched with satisfaction as it arced through the air before falling away into the valley between the mountains and disappearing from sight.

"Alright, fine, I'll do it," Flash grumbled, turning to face the valley.

Claymore grinned broadly. "Great. Let's see if you can blast these things right out of the sky. Power _and_ accuracy. Ready? Go!"

He shot out another large earth missile the second the last word was past his jaws, and a second later Flash sucked in a breath before expelling a powerful blast of light energy, the beam cutting through the air faster than an arrow and missing the speeding earth missile by a foot. Flash growled with disappointment and smacked a paw against the ground.

"Almost," Claymore said encouragingly. "Honestly I wasn't expecting you to get it right away. It's not exactly an easy target, is it? But I figure a challenge is the best way to learn. It makes you try harder. Ready to go again?"

"Sure," Flash grunted, settling back into his ready position. "Go."

Claymore grinned eagerly when he saw the determination in his brother's glowing white eyes and immediately fired another earth missile. The result was the same as the last time, but Flash wasn't about to quit until he hit one. Over the next hour Claymore kept up a steady rain of earth missiles coming, and each time Flash came marginally closer to hitting the elusive rocky projectiles. Then, finally, his beam connected with its mark and the earth missile was immediately shattered by the powerful light attack.

"I did it!" Flash exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and pointing with a talon. "I actually hit it!"

"You sure did, bro!" Claymore laughed, bumping him proudly on the shoulder with his folded wing. "Nice shot!"

"Do another one!" Flash said eagerly. "Come on!"

"Alright, get ready!"

The next few minutes passed quickly as Claymore continued shooting out rocky targets for Flash to hit, and Flash was delighted when he found that he was able to hit every one. It surprised him at first, but he quickly found that he was greatly enjoying himself. This was the most fun he'd had with his brother in a very long time, and now all his previous fear and reluctance was gone. It amazed him how quickly his skill with his element was improving, but now it seemed that all he'd ever needed was a chance to build some confidence in himself. Without Richter constantly belittling him whenever he made a mistake, he found that it was actually easy to find the focus and rhythm he needed to direct his beams with pinpoint accuracy at his targets. After all, the advantage of light was that his attacks didn't have a travel time, making it significantly easier to hit his mark even as the distance increased.

Just then Claymore surprised him by shooting out an earth missile that was significantly faster than any of the ones before it. Flash quickly shot out a beam of light to strike it down but didn't quite compensate for its speed and ended up only grazing the edge of it, causing a small piece of it to break off while sending the remainder veering off toward the south, falling toward a point in the woods several dozen feet away from where all the other earth missiles had been headed. When he saw that he had missed, Flash growled angrily and smacked a paw against the ground again.

"You almost had it," Claymore chuckled, trying to reassure him. "Come on, you didn't expect to be perfect right from the start, did you?"

Flash was about to reply, but before he could he was cut off by a sudden noise. The earth missile had reached the ground far below them, and when it disappeared into the trees there was sharp, sudden squeal, sounding strangely like a cry of pain.

"What was that?" Flash exclaimed.

"I don't know," Claymore replied, and Flash thought he heard an edge of tension in his voice. "But it sure didn't sound like a dragon."

At that moment Flash thought he saw movement in the trees where the earth missile had landed, and even despite his unassisted vision in the darkness Claymore seemed to notice as well. Squinting, Flash forced his vision to become even brighter, his eyes beginning to glow even more intensely, and while the resulting image was so unnatural-looking that it was nearly painful for Flash to sustain it allowed him to make out the small creatures that were emerging on the slope of the mountain out of the tree line. He immediately gasped, his body going rigid.

"Grublins!" he hissed.

"What?" Claymore exclaimed. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Flash snapped. Allowing his vision to return to the level of amplification he'd been using before, he turned to face his brother anxiously. "I thought you said there were no grublins around here!"

"I never saw any!" Claymore replied, shaking his head in fear and bewilderment. "I don't understand why there would suddenly be any now."

For a moment Flash wondered if the grublins had seen the flashes from his light attacks in the distance and had come to investigate, but he realized quickly that now wasn't the time to be worrying about how they had been spotted. The fact of the matter was that they had been. Now the grublins were rushing up the slope of the mountain toward the two young dragons, and they did _not_ look happy.

"We need to get out of here!" Claymore said frantically, spreading his wings to take off.

"But won't they follow us if we go back to the village now?" Flash asked fearfully. "What do we do?"

"We'll lose them first, then go back. Come on, hurry!"

The grublins were halfway to them now, and Flash realized that if they delayed any longer the small creatures would catch them easily. He nodded and spread his own wings, ready to leap into the air. Claymore spun around to face eastward, away from the approaching grublins, apparently hoping to cross to the other side of the line of mountain peaks for cover, but just as the two dragons were about to take to the air a group of six flying grublins suddenly appeared in their path, chattering in a loud, strange language that made Flash's scales crawl. Their red eyes glowed frighteningly in the darkness, and all of them were fixed on the two young dragons with a horrible eagerness in them. Then, a moment later, the land-bound grublins made it to the plateau, cutting off the dragons' only other escape.

Flash felt a wave of horror sweep over him. They were surrounded.

"Claymore..." he said in a quavering voice, edging closer to his larger brother's side.

"We have to fight our way out," Claymore answered, trying to keep his voice calm but not entirely succeeding. "Just stay close to me."

Flash nodded quickly, trying to keep calm like his brother but unable to manage it. His entire body was trembling now as he gazed out at the grublins that had him and his brother completely trapped. He had been afraid when facing a simple training dummy of one of these dark creatures, but now that he was up against over a dozen of the real things he was terrified.

_Why did I agree to come out here?_ he moaned inwardly.

"You take the ones in the air," Claymore muttered suddenly, leaning his head in close to Flash. "I'll get the rest. When I say..."

Flash nodded shakily again, turning his body so that he was facing the bulk of the airborne grublins while his brother slowly turned to face the land-bound variant, against which his earth element would be the most effective.

_Why haven't they attacked yet?_ he wondered at that moment, realizing that the grublins hadn't moved since first surrounding the two of them. _They have us completely outnumbered. They could just overwhelm us right away_.

But they didn't. For some reason Flash couldn't comprehend, the vile-looking creatures just stood or hovered in place, appearing hesitant to actually attack the dragons. Were they afraid? Or was there some reason that they didn't want to go on the attack?

"Now!" Claymore exclaimed suddenly, causing Flash to jump violently, and at the same instant the earth dragon slammed both his forepaws into the stone ground and caused the earth underneath several of the grublins he was facing to heave upward, knocking them off balance. Then he spun to his left and fired the largest earth missile he could manage, the rocky projectile striking the ground at the feet of another group of grublins and sending them flying back through the air.

Overcome by his fear, Flash hadn't even moved a muscle when his brother gave the signal, but a sudden, shrill cry caused him to jump again and he looked up just in time to see one of the flying grublins charging toward him with their club raised high, ready to bring it crashing onto his head. Yelping in surprise and fear he ducked the swing. Then, out of a mixture of instinct and desperation, he craned his neck up toward the flying creature and shot out a blinding beam of white light. He missed, but the powerful attack was enough to startle the attacking grublins for a moment and cause them to back uncertainly away.

"Keep going, Flash!" his brother cried from behind him, at that moment fending off blows from two of his own opponents. "Don't let them overwhelm you!" He trailed off as he ducked low and spun around, bringing the club of his tail up and knocking the two grublins away. "Keep them at range where you have the advantage!"

"R-Right," Flash stammered, and before the flying grublins regrouped he attacked again.

This time the grublin he targeted didn't have a chance to dodge away. The beam of light struck it square in the chest, knocking it back into the face of the mountain with such force that the stone cracked. The grublin then sank limply to the ground, groaning and writhing from the pain in its body caused by the tremendous impact and the severe burn on its chest. The other grublins stared at it in shock for a moment. Then, slowly, they turned back to face Flash, and in their eyes he could easily see a glint of rage.

"Uh oh," he stammered weakly.

All as one they charged, swarming in on the small white dragon who was hardly able to react as his terror overcame him. Just before they reached him he forced himself to shoot another beam of light at the nearest grublin, knocking it out of the air instantly, but the rest were upon him before he could fight back. He cried out in pain as he felt one of their clubs smash into his flank, bruising his ribs, and pain exploded up his right foreleg as another club was brought down upon it. Blindly he lashed out with his talons and wings, feeling his strikes landing but unable to drive all his assailants away. He screamed again as he felt another club land on his back. A moment later he felt another grublin close to his left forepaw and he lashed out with all the strength he could manage, hearing the creature scream in pain as his talons cut into it. Then a grublin darted past his face and out of instinct he bit, catching the grublin in his jaws and biting down as hard as he possibly could. He was forced to release it when another club caught him across the snout, though he was certain he must have injured his victim gravely. Sill, no matter how hard he fought the grublins never stopped coming.

Then, suddenly, an idea sprang up in his mind and he called out for his brother.

"Claymore, close your eyes!" he shouted.

The earth dragon didn't answer, but Flash couldn't afford to check to see if he had heard him or not. Gathering all the power he could manage, he closed his eyes tightly and released it all at once. The resulting flash of light illuminated the mountain for a hundred feet in all directions, and all the grublins squealed in pain as they were momentarily blinded and stunned by the intense burst of light. When Flash opened his eyes he saw them clumsily backing away from the two dragons, rubbing frantically at their eyes.

"Alright, get them!" Claymore exclaimed, pulling back the wing he had used to shield his eyes. "Quick!"

Flash didn't hesitate to obey. He cracked his jaws open wide and unleashed the most powerful beam of light he had ever produced, pouring all his power into the attack. The grublin that was hit was instantly swallowed up in the beam, and when Flash ceased his attack he was shocked to see that the grublin had been completely burned away, leaving nothing behind.

_Whoa_, he thought numbly, gasping for breath. _I didn't know I could do that!_

A sharp screech jolted him back to reality, and he looked up and let out a cry of terror when he saw one of the other grublins bearing down on him with murderous intent in its eyes, but just before it reached him it was suddenly knocked out of the sky by an earth missile, the projectile slamming it against the face of the mountain and crushing it instantly. A second later Flash heard a roar of pain and whirled around only to see his brother staggering sideways, a large gash on his flank. Flash felt a horrible wave of nausea surge through him when he saw his brother's blood splattered against the stone plateau, but just then his attention was captured by the grublin that had attacked his brother, raising its blood-stained blade high to bring it down on the wounded earth dragon. With a desperate cry Flash unleashed another light beam that struck the grublin in the stomach and propelled it off the plateau into empty space, the doomed creature emitting a shrill squeal of terror as it plummeted out of sight down the mountain. Flash immediately turned toward his brother to check on him, but his heart nearly stopped when he saw the four remaining grublins his brother had been fighting charging toward the earth dragon, ready to finish him off.

"Claymore, get down!" he shouted.

Pounding his wings furiously, he leapt into the air over his brother's head before gathering his power around him and propelling himself toward the ground with a single powerful flap of his wings. His power formed a sort of screen around him, enshrouding him in blazing white light and making him look like a comet as he raced toward the ground. The grublins didn't even have a chance to escape; Flash slammed into the ground right in the centre of their group, his gathered power exploding outward on impact and sending them flying through the air in all directions. Flash was barely aware of them weakly staggering to their feet, clearly injured, before he collapsed to the ground in exhaustion, the massive drain on his power finally catching up to him.

"Flash!" Claymore cried out when he saw his brother fall.

Over the course of the next couple of seconds the plateau exploded with the sounds of vicious fighting, Claymore snarling and roaring angrily, grublins squealing, and all the while the loud rumbles and explosions of devastating earth attacks echoed across the mountains. Only a short while later the grublins cries became more and more distant until they faded away completely, leaving only the sound of Claymore's exhausted panting to disturb the silence of the night.

"Flash," he gasped anxiously, moving over to the white dragon's side. "Flash, are you alright?"

"I think so," Flash groaned weakly, shakily trying to push himself to his feet.

Claymore quickly moved closer to support him. Flash winced as the bruises on his legs and flanks burned from the effort, but soon he was on his feet and standing on his own.

"Where did the grublins go?" he asked, looking around.

"They ran off," Claymore chuckled, but then he winced as the gash on his flank was stretched by the movement.

Flash looked over him worriedly, and he gasped silently when he noticed the numerous cuts all over his body that slowly seeped blood. Claymore was clearly in pain, but it was also obvious that he was far more worried about his brother than his own wounds. Flash briefly glanced over himself and frowned when he saw the multiple dark bruises already forming on his white scales.

"That was quite the move there at the end," Claymore said after a moment of tense silence had passed. There was something akin to awe on his expression as he spoke. "What was that?"

"Oh, it's something I thought of a while ago," Flash replied slowly, thinking of a time a few months ago when he had been lying in his room and the idea had occurred to him. "But I never had a chance to try it out. When I saw those grublins moving in on you, I didn't really think. I just did it."

"Well it was sure impressive," Claymore grinned. "But are you alright? You looked like you passed out there for a second."

"Yeah, I wasn't expecting it to use that much energy," Flash nodded sheepishly. "Good thing you were here, I guess."

"Yeah, well, how about you thank me later? Right now we need to get out of here before those grublins come back. Can you fly?"

"It doesn't look like I have a choice," Flash grunted.

"Good. Come on, let's get out of here."

Flash nodded in agreement, and with a loud groan he spread his wings and leapt unsteadily into the air after his brother. His wings felt like lead as he forced them to flap incessantly, powering his way through the air down the mountain by sheer force of will. Mercifully, the entrance to the cave came into sight only a couple of minutes later and the two young dragons glided rapidly toward it. Claymore landed first and Flash was barely able to avoid crashing into him, his aching wings threatening to give out at any moment. Without wasting a moment they dashed into the cavern, reaching the edge of the underground village less than a minute later. As they rounded a corner between a pair of low houses they skidded to a sudden halt, finding their path blocked by a fire dragon.

"By the Ancestors, what are you two..." the dragon exclaimed, but then he trailed off when he noticed the state the two of them were in. His eyes went wide with horror as he took in the many discoloured bruises that covered Flash's body and the bleeding gashes that Claymore bore.

"What on earth happened to you two?" he gasped in alarm.

"Grublins," Claymore panted. "Just south of here."

The fire dragon jerked back in shock. "You were attacked by grublins, and close by?"

Claymore nodded quickly. "We fought them off, but some got away. There might be more..."

The dragon's eyes widened again, but then a serious look came over his features and he stood up straighter.

"We have to inform the elders immediately," he declared firmly. "Come on, quickly! Your injuries can be treated when we get there."

Claymore and Flash both nodded their heads. Then the fire dragon spun sharply about and hurried off down the streets toward the centre of the village, Claymore and Flash chasing breathlessly after him. All the while, Flash's mind was reeling with all kinds of fearful thoughts and anxious questions, but most of all one thought echoed almost constantly.

What if the grublins found the village?

***.*.***

"_Spyro..."_

_Spyro shivered as the faint, distant call reached his ears, sounding like nothing more than a whisper but still containing a firm, commanding tone to it._

_That voice. Where had he heard it before?_

"_Spyro..."_

_Though he couldn't understand why, Spyro felt irresistibly drawn forward by the call, and though his every instinct told him that he should turn and run he found that the only direction he could move was forward. It was as if some other consciousness was directing his motions and he was only along for the ride. He didn't want to go, but he had no choice but to comply._

_Slowly and with an unknown sense of purpose, the young purple dragon made his way down the dark stone hallway, the walls around him illuminated by a flat, dim blueish glow that seemed to come from nowhere but also everywhere. It reminded him strangely of the dreams he'd had whenever the Chronicler had called him, but there was something different about it as well. Something...colder._

"_Spyro..." the call came again, echoing ominously from down the corridor ahead. "Come to me..."_

_The sound of the call was enough to send a tremor of fear through his body, but again Spyro was unable to resist. He continued to walk forward, his gaze locked straight ahead. He was unable to do so much as move his eyes. All he could do was stare straight ahead as he walked._

_This place...it was familiar. He had the distinct feeling that he had walked these halls many times before, with their faded stone walls covered by interspersed clusters of roots or vines, or the occasional fungus as if this place had been purposely left to decay, forgotten and abandoned. His memory seemed clouded. It took him a great deal of effort to try and recall where he had seen these surroundings before. At last it came to him._

_The old temple._

But what am I doing here?_ he wondered. _Shouldn't I be in Warfang?

_Just at that moment he rounded a bend in the corridor, and he drew to a halt when he found his way barred by a large double door made of old, rotting wooden planks. With his path apparently blocked, Spyro wanted nothing more than to turn around and leave that place. However, he found that he was unable to move._

"_Come..." the distant voice beckoned. "Closer..."_

_The doors slowly creaked open, though Spyro hadn't made any move to open them, and beyond the doorway Spyro was greeted with a familiar sight. With the same slow, sluggish steps he entered the dim round chamber that he had been inside so many times, the pool of visions that he had seen Ignitus peering into so often sitting in the centre of the floor, its surface rippling and shimmering strangely. He felt compelled to move toward it, and it was a compulsion he couldn't ignore. He took a step forward, then another._

_A sudden movement caught his eye, and Spyro drew to a halt and slowly turned his head toward the source. At first he saw nothing there, but then he became aware of a figure moving in the shadows, coming closer. It was a dragon, he realized, appearing to be the same size as him, but because of the thick, impenetrable shadows he couldn't begin to make out who it was. Then, with the same unnatural slowness about his motions that Spyro felt himself move with, the unknown dragon approached the light. Only a few more steps..._

_When the figure at last stepped out of the darkness and Spyro was able to see him clearly, he felt a surge of shock and confusion run through him. If he could he would have gasped and backed away, but as it was he only stood frozen in place, staring at..._

_Himself._

_The dragon standing before him looked exactly like him in every detail. It _was_ him. The other Spyro just stood there for a moment, staring at him with a blank expression. Then, gradually, a grin began to form at the corners of his muzzle. It wasn't a pleasant smile. It was filled with a cold, dark pleasure, and it sent a terrible chill running through Spyro when he saw it. A glint of the same sadistic pleasure shone in the other Spyro's eyes. As he looked at himself with that evil look on his face, Spyro felt a tingle of fear._

This can't be happening!_ he thought frantically. _It can't be...

_With his grin ever present, the other Spyro slowly extended a wing to motion toward the vision pool, as if inviting Spyro to look into it. Spyro wanted nothing more than to leave, to run as fast as he could and leave his twin behind, but instead he found himself walking toward the pool. Only a couple of seconds later he was standing at its edge, peering down into its surface, waiting._

_At first he saw nothing, but then gradually an image began to form within the surface of the pool. He saw a dark cavern, lit only by the unearthly, chilling glow of dark purple crystals embedded into the walls and low ceiling. Then another figure began to materialize in the foreground of the image. It was difficult to make out at first, but eventually Spyro was able to determine that it was also a dragon, though all he could see of it was a silhouette. The only detail he could make out about the figure was its eyes. Its horrible, malevolent, blood-red eyes._

"_Spyro," the voice said again, louder this time, and Spyro realized that it was coming from within the pool, from the unknown figure before him. "You've lost sight of your true path, Spyro..."_

_The cold, terrible voice was more frightening that anything Spyro had heard before, far worse than even that of Malefor. It seemed to suck all warmth and courage out of him, leaving him a hollow, trembling shell. At the same time he felt a strange pressure growing at the back of his skull, as if another consciousness was pressing forcibly against his own. The touch was repulsive and frightening beyond measure, but also familiar. Spyro realized that it was the same presence he had felt in the dream where he had fought Malefor..._

"_You have been deceived, Spyro," the voice told him. "Deceived by everyone you trusted. They claimed to know the path you were meant to follow, but they knew nothing. And you...you have chosen to ignore what you should have instinctively known all along..."_

_The pressure continued to grow, and Spyro shuddered violently as he felt its cold, unsettling touch spreading throughout his being, threatening to consume him. He tried to fight against it, but it was too great for him to overcome._

"_Soon, Spyro," the voice whispered, and Spyro thought he heard a dark eagerness in it. "Soon you will remember. Soon you will be forced to accept the truth of your nature."_

Don't listen to it!_ Spyro shouted at himself in his mind. _Fight it! Don't believe anything!

"_Soon, Spyro. It will not be long now. Your destiny is already in motion."_

_Spyro fought with all his strength to free his body, to overpower the outside control that had forced him to come to this place. He wanted to get away. He wanted to leave, but still he was unable to move. All the while the terrible presence grew in his mind, sending fresh waves of terror surging through him._

"_Soon you will be mine again."_

Spyro gave a strained cry and jolted upright on his bed of cushions within his chamber, clutching at his forehead with both his forepaws and groaning as a lance of pain bored into the back of his head, feeling like someone had driven a sword straight into his skull. The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced, and it completely obliterated all thought within his mind. He was aware only of the pounding agony throughout his entire being, and that cold, malicious presence from his dream that had yet to leave him.

"Spyro!" came Sparx's concerned shout as his cries of pain continued to grow in volume, the dragonfly's voice sounding strangely distant and muffled. "Spyro, snap out of it buddy!"

The pain suddenly increased tenfold, and Spyro screamed and began to writhe as it felt like the white-hot agony would tear his head apart from the inside. It seemed to last for an eternity, driving his mind and body to the verge of breaking. Then, as quickly as it had come, it vanished. For a long moment Spyro was unable to do anything more than lie there, curled up tightly on his side and gasping for air. His whole body was trembling violently, and he felt like he was going to be sick. That pain, whatever it was, had been the most excruciating thing he had ever experienced, and the very memory of it was enough to send a thrill of terror through him.

"Spyro, are you okay?" Sparx demanded, appearing in front of Spyro's face with a look of extreme concern written all over his expression. "Say something!"

"I'm okay," Spyro gasped feebly, trying to calm his breathing and the trembling in his body.

It took him several moments before he was able to get his breathing settled and his heart rate down to a reasonable level. He swallowed with some difficulty and cringed when he tasted bile in his throat. Finally, with a great deal of unsteadiness about his motions, Spyro forced himself up into a seated position, his head swimming dizzily for several seconds afterwards.

"What was that?" Sparx asked him, never taking his eyes off his brother. "I just woke up to you screaming like I've never heard before. What happened?"

"I...I don't know," Spyro gasped, his gaze drifting as he tried to sort out what had just happened. "I think...it was a dream..."

"Well, that must have been some dream," Sparx said slowly, still eyeing his brother worriedly. "I've gotta tell you, buddy, you really freaked me out there. Are you sure you're alright?"

Spyro nodded after taking another long breath to try and settle his nerves. "I'm okay."

"Do you think we should tell the guardians about it? I mean, whenever weird things like this start happening with you..."

"No, no, it's fine," Spyro said immediately, shaking his head firmly and holding up a paw. "It's over now. I'm fine."

"Alright," Sparx grunted tensely, not sounding at all convinced. "If you say so..."

Spyro took the next several minutes to try to calm the fear that still coursed through him. Sparx waited silently by his side the whole time, watching him carefully as if fearful that he might have another sudden and unexplained attack of whatever it was that had taken hold of him. Spyro tried not to notice this, however. Slowly but surely, he managed to shake his unsettled feeling and relax his body.

"How early is it?" he asked, glancing out into his chambers from his current seat to see that it was still dark out.

"Just before dawn, I think," Sparx replied after studying the faint glow that was visible on the horizon through the balcony entrance. "Which means that it should be right about the time that—"

He was cut off by a knock on the door, and he gave a low grunt and nodded his head.

"Yep, called it," he said.

Spyro offered a half-hearted grin before rising to his feet and making his way over to the doorway. When he opened the door he found a mole attendant standing on the other side.

"It's time, Master Spyro," he said simply.

"Okay," Spyro sighed, giving a nod. "Thank you."

The mole inclined his head before turning and hurrying off down the hallway. Spyro, meanwhile, turned back to face Sparx, who was hovering just off to his side.

"Why does this have to be so early?" the dragonfly grumbled. "Who in their right mind plans an event like this for this hour?"

"It's supposed to be symbolic," Spyro explained. "Come on, Sparx, I already told you all this yesterday."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but still. It seems cruel to me."

Spyro sighed and shook his head. The night before, when Sparx had refused to stop complaining about the abhorrent hour that they were expected to wake up the next day, Spyro had explained what the guardians had told him just a couple of days before. The memorial was timed so that it would coincide with the rising of the sun. It was meant to signify how his memory and spirit would live on; the sun, a bright, fiery light that would rise even after the elder dragon's death and continue to illuminate the lives of those that had known him, offering hope and comfort.

"Come on," Spyro said at length. "We have a schedule to keep to, after all. Let's get going."

"Right behind you, big guy."

Spyro pulled the door open the rest of the way before stepping through it and waiting for Sparx to follow. Once he had he pulled the door shut again and set off down the hall for the stairs. Just as he began walking he saw the mole that had come to fetch him walking away from another door that had just opened up on his left a short ways down the hall. A moment later a slim figure emerged from within the room.

"Oh. Um," Faren squeaked in a small voice when she noticed Spyro. "Good...good morning, S-Spyro."

Spyro smiled kindly, hoping to alleviate some of the shy red dragoness's anxiety. Faren and Sirius had been given rooms on the same floor as he and Cynder the night before. Of course Sirius would eventually be moving into the temple to reside there with the other guardians, but at the current time there were two things preventing that from occurring. Firstly, no one had yet had the heart to go into the fire guardian's chambers and clear out all of Ignitus's possessions to make room for Sirius to take over the room. And secondly, he hadn't wanted to be separated from Faren until she was more comfortable in the city. Until such a time that he felt she was settled enough that she would be alright on her own, Sirius insisted upon having a room next to hers.

"Hello Faren," Spyro said, inclining his head. "Where's your brother?"

"Um, I think he's at the temple already," Faren replied, her voice still very quiet. "He said last night that he would have a lot to do this morning."

Spyro nodded in understanding. "Should we head over there, then?"

Though still obviously quite nervous, Faren eventually agreed with a simple nod of her head and turned toward the end of the hall, padding quickly over toward the stairs. Spyro was just about to follow after her, but at that moment something caught his attention. He looked over to his right, where the mole attendant was knocking repeatedly on Cynder's door.

"Miss Cynder, are you in there?" he called, sounding slightly anxious as though he were having no luck in getting a reply. "The guardians request your presence at the temple now. You really need to go."

"Is something wrong?" Spyro asked, walking over.

The mole glanced toward him and shrugged helplessly. "She won't answer. As far as I know she should be in there, but she isn't coming to the door."

Spyro looked toward the door again, puzzled and slightly concerned. After a moment of thought he turned to the mole once more.

"Okay, I'll give it a try. You can go."

The mole nodded his furry head quickly and scampered off down the hallway. When he had gone Spyro stepped up to the door and rapped lightly on it with a balled paw.

"Cynder?" he called hopefully. "Are you in there? We need to be going."

For a moment there was only silence, but then Spyro heard a quiet voice from within the room, difficult to make out through the wood because of how faint it was.

"Leave me alone."

Spyro was caught by surprise by that answer, and he felt worry beginning to work its way through him when he detected the gloomy tone in the dragoness's voice. He remained frozen there uncertainly for a moment. Looking quickly over his shoulder, he saw Faren and Sparx a short way down the hall waiting for him. He gave a small sigh and turned toward them.

"Maybe you should go on ahead," he told them. "We'll catch up."

Both the dragoness and the dragonfly nodded quickly, and together they turned away and resumed their journey to the temple, disappearing a moment later down the stairs. Once they had gone Spyro turned back toward Cynder's door and hesitated for just a second before reaching up and cautiously pushing the door open.

"Cynder?" he said hesitantly, poking his head inside.

The interior of her room was so dark that it was nearly impossible for him to see anything. She had drawn the woven cover over her balcony door, as if to seal herself inside her room—or perhaps, Spyro realized, to seal the rest of the world out. Not a single lantern was lit within the chambers, which were almost as large as Spyro's were, making the space feel empty and oppressive. From the crack of light filtering through the door, however, Spyro was eventually able to spot Cynder in a back corner of the room, curled up on her cushions with her back to the door. He faltered when he noticed that her side seemed to be shaking strangely, but when a muffled sob reached his ears he immediately understood, concern rushing through him.

"Cynder?" he asked anxiously, pushing the door the rest of the way open and rushing inside her room, reaching her in seconds. "What is it?"

The black dragoness didn't answer right away, her quiet sobs and whimpers being the only sounds she made, and she hadn't even turned her head or opened her eyes to look at him upon his arrival by her side. Spyro could easily see the streaks from tears on the scales of her cheeks, and he deduced that she had been like this for quite some time.

"Cynder, please," he tried again, taking a careful step closer. "What's wrong?"

She sniffed loudly, and slowly she opened her eyes which were glistening with unshed tears, though she still didn't turn to look at the purple dragon. Instead she just stared off into space.

"I saw them," she whimpered finally, her voice so quiet that Spyro almost didn't hear her.

"Saw who?" he asked softly.

She sniffed again, and when she spoke it was with an extremely tight voice. "Sirius and Faren. I saw them." She closed her eyes tightly, a couple of fresh tears coming free. "They were so young..."

It instantly dawned on him what she was talking about, and Spyro gave a low sigh as he felt the first twinges of pity and sorrow welling up inside him. So she had been like this all night, ever since meeting Sirius and Faren the day before, with visions of that day no doubt plaguing her sleep. It pained him tremendously to see her reduced to such a state.

"I saw them," she repeated hoarsely. "I can't get their faces out of my head. They were so scared, Spyro, and I..."

"Hey, it's alright," he said soothingly, resting a paw gently on her back. "It was a dream."

"No, it wasn't just a dream!" she snapped suddenly, swatting his paw away with her own and surging to her feet, pain and anger flashing in her moist eyes. "It was a memory! It was something that really happened! Something _I_ did to them!"

Her voice broke on those last words, and she closed her eyes again as a fresh wave of tears spilled out. Choking back a sob, she sank back down onto the cushions and turned her head away, as if trying to keep Spyro from seeing her.

"She's dead because of me," she sobbed weakly. "She was just trying to protect them, and I killed her! I killed her..."

Spyro's head jerked back in shock, struck with a rush of horror at those words. It was obvious that Cynder was speaking of Sirius's and Faren's mother, but they had only said that she had died in the attack. They had never mentioned that it had been by Cynder's hand.

"She wasn't even fighting!" Cynder continued, her crying growing ever more forceful. "She was just trying to get her children to safety. She was no threat, but I singled her out anyway! I _murdered_ her for no reason at all!"

That was when she truly broke. With a single, ragged sob, all her sorrow and shame came bursting free and her shoulders shook violently as her sobs wracked her body. Spyro couldn't bear to see her in such pain, and he carefully moved forward and took hold of her with his forepaws, holding her close and wrapping his wings protectively around her. She immediately buried her face in his chest, her tears running down his scales. All the while he tried to calm her, but it was no use. She was beyond comforting.

"She didn't deserve it," she sobbed, her voice muffled. "And they didn't deserve it either. To have to watch what I did to her..."

"Cynder, you don't have to do this to yourself," Spyro said pleadingly, tightening his hold. "They don't blame you for what happened—"

"How do you know?" she demanded suddenly, pulling away to stare hard at him, and he almost shrunk away when he saw the unbearable guilt and sorrow, but most of all anger in her eyes. "How can you even say that? You weren't there! You didn't see the things I did!"

"I know because they told me," Spyro replied firmly.

Cynder faltered, and by her expression he could tell that she was trying desperately to determine if there was any truth to his words. But then her eyes hardened again.

"How can they not blame me?" she demanded, her voice ragged. "How can they not blame me after what they saw? Tell me how!"

"I don't have that answer, Cynder," Spyro said apologetically, trying to remain strong in the face of her despair but having an extremely hard time of it. "I can only tell you what they told me. They say that they've accepted her death, and that they accept that you aren't responsible for what happened—"

"They're wrong!" Cynder cried, cutting him short and startling him badly. "They're wrong if they say that! I am responsible! I'm the reason she's dead!"

"No you're not!" Spyro exclaimed forcibly, and this time it was Cynder's turn to be startled. "You know that that's not true, Cynder! You can't blame yourself for something that you were forced to do by Malefor!"

"Spyro, you don't understand..." she sobbed.

"No, I don't! I can't ever claim to understand what you've been through, Cynder, but what I _do_ know is that _it wasn't you_! I know that you would never do any of those things by choice!"

"Spyro, don't you see? That's exactly it! I _did_ do those things by choice!"

Spyro was stunned into silence, and for a long time he could only stare at her, unable to believe the words that had just left her mouth. But as she gazed back at him with the greatest look of shame he had ever seen in her eyes a creeping doubt began to work its way through him, no matter how hard he tried to crush it.

"What are you talking about?" he managed to say at last.

"You keep saying that I was forced to do the things I did, but that's not true Spyro!" she exclaimed, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face. "I was never forced to do anything! Every single horrible thing I did was a choice that _I_ made! Me! Not Malefor! I may have been following his commands, but beyond that it was entirely my decision! _I_ chose how to carry out my orders. _I_ chose where to attack. _I_ chose who lived and who died. Every time, it was me!"

"I don't believe that, Cynder!" Spyro snapped. "I know the dragoness you are now, and that dragoness would never do any of the things you told me you did!"

"Then you're wrong!" Cynder screamed. "You're wrong about me, Spyro! I was always free to make my own choices when I was serving the Dark Master! I can remember every single choice I made. There was nothing telling me what to do. There was nothing guiding my thoughts. It was always just me, and what's worse I always enjoyed it! Every terrible thing I did, I did because I wanted to, not because Malefor wanted me to! The monster that everyone knew me as _is _me!"

Another violent sob burst from her, and she pulled away from his grasp and retreated a number of steps, curling her wings and tail tightly around herself as if to try and isolate herself form everything. For a long moment Spyro just sat there, stunned by everything she had just said and unsure what he should believe. Ever since Ignitus had told him that Cynder wasn't truly a creature of darkness but just a tortured young soul overpowered by the Dark Master's influence, he had believed unwaveringly that in reality she was nothing like the Terror of the Skies she was known to be. But what if it was true, and everything she had done had in fact been a free choice that she had made herself...?

He sighed, shaking his head, and when he spoke again it was in a much quieter voice.

"Maybe that is true," he said. "Maybe you did make those choices. But I still believe that Malefor was behind all those decisions somehow. Not you."

"Spyro," she choked. "Why can't you just listen to me?"

"No, you listen! Tell me honestly, Cynder. If you were given the same choices now as you were back then, would you make the same decisions?"

She hesitated.

"Would you?" he repeated more forcefully.

"No!" she exclaimed finally. "No, I wouldn't but—"

"Exactly! Just as I've been saying all along, you are _not_ the same dragoness that Cynder, Terror of the Skies was. Malefor corrupted you at the very core of who you were. He twisted your being so much that any decisions you made in that form are things that I _know_ you never would have done if not for his influence. You deny it, but the truth is that Malefor and Malefor _alone_ is responsible for what you did. So please, Cynder. _Please_ stop blaming yourself for that! Please!"

"How?" she demanded. "I have tried to move on, Spyro. You know I have! But every time I try, something comes up to bring it right back to me! How can you ask me not to blame myself when every day I look around and see the damage that I've done? How?"

Spyro opened his mouth to reply, but then he drew a blank and no words came out.

"How?" Cynder asked again.

Still he was unable to answer. He searched desperately for an answer, something he could say to reassure her, but how could he answer that question when he couldn't even begin to comprehend all that she had experienced in her life?

"Tell me how!" she shrieked.

"I don't know!" he shouted helplessly.

Spyro was startled by the force in his voice, having never intended for the words to just burst out of him like that. Across from him Cynder could only stare at him for a long moment, just as startled, before a crestfallen look came over her. She gave a miserable sigh and all at once she seemed to deflate, her wings and head drooping with sheer disappointment and despair. Spyro's heart nearly broke for her when he saw that look on her face, feeling like he had failed her.

"I don't know," he repeated, slowly moving closer to her again. "But you have to keep trying, Cynder. Maybe it doesn't seem like it now, but it won't always be like this. Things will get better."

"How do you know?" she whimpered, her tone hopeless. "What if they don't? What if it will always be like this, and every time I meet someone new it will be the same thing? Hi, I'm Cynder, and by the way I slaughtered this branch of your family..."

Her voice cracked again, and Spyro quickly shifted closer to offer support as she began to curl in on herself again, fresh tears streaming. He wanted nothing more than to be able to end her torment in that moment, but it seemed like nothing he said was having any effect.

"It won't be," he said softly. "You don't have to do this to yourself, Cynder. It's over, and you don't have to face this alone anymore. There are people here that want to help you. You have friends that care about you." He extended a paw and gently lifted her chin with it until her eyes met his. "I care about you."

Her eyes widened at those last words, and for a moment it looked almost as if she had expected his feelings for her to disappear in the face of this newest crime. When she realized that this wasn't true it was like the final barrier she had been trying to bottle her pain and guilt behind came crumbling down. Her whole body shook as she surrendered all resistance and simply let the sobs and tears come pouring out, and Spyro gently pulled her in close with his wings again, covering her from the pains of the outside world, protecting her. She held on to him just as tightly, as if afraid that he might slip away from her at any moment and leave her alone in a world that feared and resented her. But Spyro wasn't going anywhere, and not even the guardians themselves could have torn him away from her in that moment.

"You're not alone, Cynder, and you don't ever have to be alone again. I promise you that."

He didn't know how long he held her like that, but he no longer cared. She was all that mattered to him in that moment, and until her crying stopped and her pain had been erased he would remain. In that manner he sat there, unmoving, the sobbing dragoness secure in his arms and wings even as the sun slowly crept up over the horizon...

* * *

><p><strong>Ooooh...Grublin battles, creepy dreams, and guilt trips. Heavy stuff going on...<strong>

**I won't make any promises, but probably the chapter after next is when the real interesting stuff is going to start! Brace yourselves!**

**Of course, if things keep going the way they have been with these last 2 chapters, we might never get there...**

**Here's hoping. As always, any and all comments are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!**


	12. Chapter 11

**Took a little while, but here's the next chapter. Stupid school assignments are starting to pile up, so I'm not doing as much writing as I would like to be. Oh well, hopefully this chapter will have been worth the (marginally) longer wait than usual.**

**It's a good one. X) **

**(At least I think so)  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 11:<span>_

The streets between the residence building and the temple were packed so tightly with the bodies of moles and dragons that walking was nearly impossible, and as Spyro and Cynder tried to weave their way through the crowd to get to the temple the black dragoness found herself getting almost constantly squeezed against the purple dragon's side. Of course, he was holding on to her so tightly with his wing that it hardly made a difference.

It was now almost twenty minutes after Spyro had found her in her room, which also happened to mean that the two of them were now almost ten minutes late for the start of the memorial ceremony. This realization caused a pang of guilt within Cynder's heart, for it was because of her that they were running behind. On top of that she knew how much Spyro had cared for Ignitus, and so it seemed just wrong to make him late for a ceremony in the fire guardian's memory. However, he was determined not to let her blame herself. He was clearly still worried about her after finding her in such a state of anguish, and now as they walked he kept his wing draped over her comfortingly, as if to affirm his earlier words that she wasn't alone and that he was there for her. She had never been more grateful for his support.

"We should have flown," she said with a weak chuckle as the two of them just barely managed to force their way between two clusters of moles. Her voice still sounded a bit strained as a result of crying so much before, but there was no sadness in it now and Spyro smiled lightly when he heard it.

"Yes, we should have. I had no idea it would be this crowded already." He gave a small shrug. "Too late now. We won't be able to take off with things packed so tight."

"At least we're almost there."

Spyro nodded. "Yeah, almost."

It took a few more minutes of jostling and pushing before the two dragons had managed to climb the steps into the temple courtyard. Here the crowd was still just as thick, but because of the open space it was marginally easier to move about. Over the heads of the moles Cynder could just make out the guardians standing on the steps of the temple ahead, scanning the crowd intently. Looking for them, no doubt.

"Come on," Cynder said, pushing forward with renewed haste. "Just a little bit farther."

But instead of speeding up, to Cynder's surprise she suddenly felt a tug on her shoulders as Spyro came to an abrupt halt. Puzzled, she looked back at him to see him gazing up at the rooftops of the city behind them and to their left, a strange frown on his face.

"Spyro?" Cynder said, nudging him. "What is it?"

"I..." he muttered distractedly. "I don't know. For some reason, I just got the strangest feeling that I was being watched."

Cynder's eyes narrowed in confusion, and she leaned over to follow his gaze. She saw nothing, however. There was no sign of anyone watching the purple dragon.

"I guess it was nothing," Spyro grunted at length. Slowly he resumed walking, returning his gaze forward, but Cynder could still see a slightly troubled look in his eyes. To himself he muttered, "Maybe it's just that dream messing with me..."

"What?" Cynder asked, having been close enough to hear what he said. "You had a dream last night?"

"Oh," Spyro said, embarrassed, and it looked as if he hadn't meant to say what he did. "Um...yeah. Yeah, I did. Never mind, it was nothing."

He looked away, his gaze distant, and Cynder watched him suspiciously for a long moment before sighing and looking away as well. He was obviously hiding something. Something was bothering him, but he clearly wasn't willing to share it with her. At the same time it worried and pained her that he might have something on his mind that he was reluctant to confide in her, but now wasn't the time to pressure him about it.

As they resumed walking, Cynder glanced over her shoulder toward the point where Spyro had been looking before, a troubled feeling nagging at her, and when she did she thought she caught a glimpse of the head of a young red dragon pulling quickly back out of sight behind the edge of one of the rooftops, disappearing so quickly she couldn't be sure if she had even seen it.

_Who could that be?_ she wondered, puzzled by the unknown dragon's evasive behaviour. But even despite her curiosity, she didn't dwell on it for long. After all, over the several days she and Spyro had already spent in the city she had seen many dragons and moles watching the purple dragon from the distance, a couple of young dragons among them. It was no secret that he had become nothing less than a celebrity in the city—a fact that clearly made him uncomfortable, to Cynder's great amusement. She simply dismissed this red dragon as another nervous admirer, therefore, and pushed it from her mind. There were far more pressing matters to think of at that moment.

Like the disapproving glare that was being directed at them by the earth guardian standing before them, for instance.

"You're late," Terrador admonished sternly, and Cynder couldn't help but shy away from the harsh disappointment contained in his gaze. "We were starting to wonder if you would even show up. The entire city is waiting."

"Sorry, Terrador," Spyro said guiltily, lowering his gaze. "There was...a delay."

"Better is expected of you, Spyro," the large earth dragon rumbled reproachfully. "You are young, but your position comes with a great amount of responsibility. It is simply not acceptable to fail to rise to it."

"It's not his fault," Cynder cut in, taking a step forward.

"Cynder," Spyro began to protest.

"It's okay, Spyro," she said quickly before turning her gaze back toward Terrador. "Please, don't be hard on him. He held back because of me."

Terrador studied her quizzically for a moment, judging whether or not he should believe her. His gaze soon settled on the lingering stains of tears on her cheeks, which she had been unable to completely rub away despite her best efforts, and when he saw them his expression softened somewhat.

"I see," he said finally. "Well, what's done is done, I suppose. You're both here now, so we can begin."

Spyro and Cynder both gave quick nods before turning to their right and hurrying to take their positions alongside the other dragons along the top of the temple steps. The top of the curved stairs crated a sort of spacious, raised platform that looked out over the rest of the courtyard, and obviously it had been constructed with the idea that it could double as a makeshift stage for the courtyard. In the centre of this platform, Cynder noticed a large white sheet draped over some kind of statue or sculpture that hadn't been there before, hiding it completely from view. Cynder happened to know what was underneath, as did the other dragons on the platform, but the rest of the crowd was left to wonder.

Only a couple of seconds later Spyro and Cynder had taken their assigned positions between Terrador on their right and Sirius on their left. Cyril and Volteer were standing on Terrador's right, while Faren was positioned on the other side of Sirius. Sparx had been hovering between the two young fire dragons, but now that Spyro had arrived he quickly moved over beside his brother.

"Everything okay?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Spyro nodded his head, glancing up at the dragonfly. "Everything's fine now."

"Well good, because I'm telling you, this day has gotten off to a way too exciting start for my taste."

Spyro gave a quiet chuckle, and even Cynder was forced to grin momentarily. Then she noticed Sirius and Faren looking anxiously in her direction. Her first thought was that Spyro had been wrong and that they were wary of her presence, but she quickly realized her mistake. There was unmistakeable concern in their eyes.

_Even after what I did to them, they're worried about me_, she thought with a slight feeling of amazement. _They must by two exceptional dragons._

She offered them a reassuring smile to let them know that she was alright, and both fire dragons returned that smile—though Faren's smile was much more hesitant than her brother's, and Cynder couldn't help but grin at the young dragoness's constant shyness.

They're attention was brought back to the proceedings at hand at that moment, however, for just then Terrador took a step forward ahead of the other dragons on the step and raised his voice so that everyone in the courtyard and the streets beyond could hear. Upon Spyro's and Cynder's arrival the crowd had already fallen into an anticipative hush, so the earth guardian was able to begin the ceremony without delay.

"Citizens of Warfang," he called, his deep booming voice echoing across the courtyard. "We have gathered here this morning for the most solemn of occasions. For while the war with the Dark Master's armies may finally be over and we have much cause to celebrate, this victory has come at a terrible cost."

An absolute silence fell over the crowd, and the solemnity that hung in the air was almost like a physical presence, striking Cynder at the very heart and filling her with a dull feeling of seriousness.

"Over these last three years, and indeed many more before that, countless lives have been lost to secure our freedom and survival. Friends. Family. They all gave their lives so that we may stand here today without fear of whether or not we will see tomorrow. We gather here today to pay them our deepest respect and thanks, but specifically we gather today to remember a great comrade and mentor, our fire guardian Ignitus."

The eulogy was short and to the point, but it was incredibly moving nonetheless. Terrador was the only one that spoke. The other guardians, Cynder, Spyro, Sirius, and Faren served no real purpose on the platform other than to illustrate just how many different lives the late fire guardian managed to touch. Though Cynder had hardly known Ignitus, she still felt a profound sadness sweep through her from the earth guardian's words. After all, in the short while that she had known Ignitus after Spyro had rescued her he had always been tremendously kind and welcoming to her, almost loving at times, and aside from Spyro he had been the dragon she had felt closest to. An equal share of her pain was sympathetic, however, because it was clear that beside her Spyro was having a much harder time. He kept a brave face for the duration of the time that Terrador talked, but in his eyes Cynder could see the pain and loss that he felt. Ignitus had been almost like a second father to Spyro, after all. He had been the first dragon that Spyro had ever met, and he had been the primary guiding presence in his life after leaving his home in the swamp. She sometimes wondered if perhaps the purple dragon felt a little bit lost in the world without his friend and mentor there any longer.

The turnout to the ceremony was a true testament to the respect that the fire guardian had garnered during his life as well. Cynder was certain that every single mole and dragon in the city must have been there to honour the fallen guardian. Hunter was at the very front of the crowd, and several other cheetahs from Avalar had come at Hunter's invitation—including, to Cynder's utter astonishment, Chief Prowlus. It could only mean good things about Ignitus's kind and generous nature if a cheetah that bore an open dislike of the dragon race came to commemorate his passing.

Finally, several minutes after he had begun speaking, Terrador reached the end of his speech.

"We must never allow ourselves to forget all that Ignitus gave for the free races of these lands," he declared. "Not just for dragons, but for all of us. And we must never forget his sacrifice, for he died so that we all might live on. We must remember, now and for all time."

As he spoke, two moles stepped forward out of the shadow of the temple and approached the covered sculpture that had yet to be seen by anyone save for those who had crafted it. When they reached it they took hold of the white sheet with their paws and gently tugged, causing the heavy fabric to slip silently down from the sculpture and fall to the stony ground. What was revealed was a marvellously crafted sculpture made of golden metals and of deep red crystal. It looked like a large torch, with a round, tall pedestal made of flowing, twisting metal that gleamed brilliantly in the early morning sunlight, embossed with intricate designs of unimaginable detail that spoke volumes of the skill of the moles that had created them. On top of this pedestal was an enormous piece of solid red crystal, appearing very similar to a red spirit gem, shaped and carved into a flame that looked almost like the real thing frozen in time, only darker in colour. The whole thing stood about twice as tall as Cynder did. On the base a plaque was attached, upon which the following words were engraved:

_In memory of Ignitus_

_Fire Guardian, Colleague, Teacher, and Friend_

_May his flame burn for all eternity_

"We hereby dedicate this sculpture to serve as a reminder of what Ignitus did for us all, so that we may never forget to honour his life and his sacrifice. May its light offer comfort to all who see it, just as Ignitus always sought to dispel the troubles of all he encountered."

The large earth dragon then turned his head toward the left and gave a very small nod. At this signal, Spyro and Sirius slowly turned and walked over to the sculpture, taking up positions on either side of it and facing toward it. Then, in eerie unison, they breathed out two steady streams of flames from between their jaws. The trails of fire curled up and around the sculpture, dancing along its surface but not burning it, rising ever higher until they reached the crystal flame. Once there the fire converged inward, covering the surface of the crystal so that it looked like a real fire had been lit at the top of the torch. The flames burned brightly there for a number of seconds before gradually dissipating, fading and losing light and heat slowly as if the energy was being sucked out of them. In one final flash they disappeared completely, leaving the crystal unmarked, but not unchanged.

Within the surface of the crystal a warm light now glowed and pulsed, gently twisting and flickering so that the crystal looked even more like a real flame, lit from within by Spyro's and Sirius's fire element. Cynder stood mesmerised by the dancing light for several long seconds, and for a moment the gentle light helped to soothe her inner sadness and troubles. Then Terrador's powerful voice shook her out of her reverie and brought her back to the present.

"May the light of Ignitus shine on for all generations in the future. May his spirit find peace, and may it continue to bring hope and comfort to all of us as it lives on in this world."

There was a general rumble of agreement from the crowd of moles, dragons, and cheetahs, though because of the sheer number of voices it was impossible to make out anything intelligible from amidst the noise. It was still clear that they all wished the same as what Terrador had just said, and for a moment afterwards silence reigned as all eyes turned to the frozen flame, its light still shifting and flickering calmly. Cynder turned her gaze toward Spyro a moment later to see him standing on the other side of the sculpture, looking up at the flame with a distant expression. A single tear rolled down his cheek and fell to the stone step beneath his paws but a smile graced his features, and Cynder knew in that moment that while it would still take Spyro a long time to fully accept the death of his mentor, he had at least found comfort in being able to give a part of himself into the creation of this monument in his honour.

With the ceremony over, the crowd in the courtyard gradually began to disperse. Many moles and dragons came up to the top step over the course of several minutes to offer their words of condolence and comfort to the guardians and young dragons for the loss of their friend, teacher or would-be teacher depending on who they were speaking to. Many of them even offered their sympathies to Cynder, which surprised her immensely, but she was grateful nonetheless. Hunter was the last to come forward after the rest of the crowd had gone, and for a long moment he just stood there in silence locking gazes with all the dragons in turn before bowing his head toward the guardians.

"I'm certain Ignitus would have greatly appreciated your words, Terrador," the cheetah said. "I have no doubt that he will be remembered just as you said, thanks in large part for what you have all done for him today."

"Thank you, Hunter," Terrador said gratefully.

Hunter smiled and inclined his head again before moving over to address Sirius. He remained motionless for a moment before extending a paw and resting it on the fire dragon's shoulder. Sirius looked down at the paw with a hint of surprise in his eyes before meeting Hunter's gaze again, having to look up only slightly as he was just a few inches shorter than the cheetah was.

"It is a shame that you won't be able to learn under Ignitus as was originally planned for you. But if what the other guardians have told me about you is true, then you should make a worthy successor for him. I'm sure that, wherever he is, he will be proud of you."

Again Sirius looked surprised, but barely more than a second later a grateful smile spread across his muzzle and he nodded quickly. Hunter shook his shoulder gently before releasing him and turning lastly toward Spyro. Slowly he strode over to the purple dragon before dropping to one knee in front of him so that, like with Sirius, they could speak eye to eye.

"And of course I'm certain that he is proud of you," he said. "You have accomplished far more than I think even he imagined."

Spyro gave a smile that seemed slightly strained and a quiet chuckle, glancing downward before letting out a prolonged sigh.

"I just wish I could have done something more to help him," he muttered.

Hunter's expression hardened slightly, and suddenly he leaned forward and gripped the young purple dragon by the shoulder, holding him firmly and locking him in place with a hard gaze. Spyro appeared surprised by the sudden action and even a little afraid of the intensity in the cheetah's eyes.

"Spyro, I want you to promise me something," he said in a quiet voice. "Do not ever hold yourself responsible for Ignitus's fate. Not even the slightest bit. He wouldn't want that. He would want you to accept the choice that he made."

Hunter let his gaze fall for a moment as he let out a heavy breath, gathering his thoughts. Spyro remained frozen in place, looking shocked and a little confused by a side of Hunter that he hadn't seen before.

"You have to understand, Spyro," Hunter sighed, "that Ignitus always believed you were our hope for the future. In his eyes, he no longer had anything that he could offer to combat Malefor's spreading evil. That is why he never allowed us to give up hope that you and Cynder would one day be found, and why he worked so hard to protect you. He cared deeply about you, Spyro. In the three years that you were missing this became plainly obvious to me. You may not even realize it, but I know in my heart that Ignitus would have gladly given his life a hundred times over for you. I am certain, therefore, that he found peace knowing that he died to ensure your safety. Do not feel guilty for that. Things are as he wanted them to be."

Spyro didn't respond for almost a minute, just staring into the cheetah's eyes uncertainly. Then, slowly, the look of shock on his face was replaced by one of gratitude and he smiled weakly up at his feline friend. Hunter gave him one last comforting pat on the shoulder before straightening and moving over to speak with the guardians again.

"Chief Prowlus wished me to extend his condolences to you all as well," he said with a hint of a smile.

_Too proud to say it himself, was he?_ Cynder thought with a feeling of reluctant humour. She shook her head with a sigh before glancing toward Spyro again. He was still sitting over by the sculpture, gazing up at it with a smile on his muzzle, though the expression contained an edge of sadness in it still. Cynder quickly moved over to his side.

"Are you alright?" she asked him quietly, sitting down close beside him and nudging him with a furled wing.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he answered with a drawn-out sigh, glancing only for the briefest of moments at her before looking back up at the flickering crystal flame. "I just miss him."

Cynder nodded in understanding and shifted closer, draping a wing over his shoulders in a gentle hold. While he looked calm, Cynder was caught by surprise by the amount of tension in his body and immediately realized that he must have been feeling far more pain than he was letting on to, trying to keep a brave face as if it were expected of him because he was the purple dragon. When she wrapped her wing around him, though, he seemed to surrender some of his resistance and began to slowly relax. His eyes misted over a touch, and he gave a quiet sniff before reaching up with a paw to wipe the moisture away. Seeing this, Cynder gently pulled him a little closer to let him know she was there for him. After all, that morning he had been there to offer comfort for her, and now was her chance to repay the favour.

"You were lucky to know him for the time you did," Sirius said, he and Faren approaching from around the sculpture. "I barely knew him for a month, but he seemed like a very kind dragon."

Spyro smiled again and nodded, adding in a quiet voice, "Yes, he was."

"Do you..." Sirius began uncertainly, and Cynder glanced toward him to see a similarly uncertain look in his expression. "Do you think you could tell me more about him some time? If you don't mind, of course..."

Faren nodded quickly, indicating that she would like to hear more about the late fire guardian as well.

"Of course I can," Spyro nodded. "Whenever you would like. Just ask."

Sirius smiled gratefully, his eyes brightening noticeably, and even Faren smiled a little.

"Thank you," the larger fire dragon said.

Silence fell over their small group after that, all four of them and Sparx staring up into the light of the sculpture, feeling their sadness and pain slowly melted away by the calming light as if the spirit of Ignitus himself was shining out from within the crystal, easing their troubles. They hardly noticed as the three guardians slipped silently back into the temple, leaving the young dragons and Sparx alone with their thoughts and memories as the bright, warming sun rose continuously higher into the clear sky, as if to remind them that even in times of loss there could be comfort for those who simply knew where to look for it.

***.*.***

_A blinding flash of white-hot agony was all that he was aware of for a split second before the impact with the ground shook him back to the present. Groaning from the shock and pain, Nexus rolled over onto his stomach on the hard stony ground before lifting up a forepaw and pressing it over his left eye which felt like it was on fire. When he pulled his paw back he saw that it was covered with blood._

"_Never rush into an attack like that!" his master snarled angrily, pacing slowly around the fallen young dragon, his entire body rigid as if ready to go on the attack at any moment. "A hasty move can easily be the last one you ever make! Patience is not only an important tool for all warriors to learn, it is an essential one!"_

"_Yes, master," Nexus grunted as he dazedly pushed himself to his feet, keeping his left eye closed and trying to ignore the blood that was slowly streaming down his face and across his muzzle. "I won't make that mistake again."_

"_We will see," was the rumbling reply. "Now come at me again."_

As he lay hidden in the shadows in the room he had taken over high in the abandoned residence in the centre of Warfang, Nexus unconsciously lifted a single talon and traced one of the lines of the double slash mark that scarred him from brow to snout, even despite the fact that in his current form the scars weren't even there. It was something he did every time he thought back to that day in training when his master had given it to him. That was five years ago. At the time he had been foolish, impulsive, and out of frustration he had launched into a blind, head-on attack that he should have known would never be successful against the ancient, powerful purple dragon he served. It had been a harsh lesson, but one he had learned well.

Nexus sometimes resented the massive purple dragon for scarring him the way he had. After all, in training it was only expected that the young dragon would make mistakes, but every time he made one he was left with a new scar to remind him of it. It had driven him almost to the point of rebellion at times, but each time he had managed to restrain himself. After all, his master must be obeyed. He had no choice in the matter. Malefor's fate was a constant reminder of that. His purpose was to carry out his master's wishes, and if he wanted to survive then he couldn't afford to let thoughts of anger and rebellion take root. Just as with his current mission, he needed patience, not anger.

"_Patience is everything in all matters of survival and tactics,"_ he heard his master's voice rumble in his mind. _"In many cases it can be the factor that either wins the day for you or loses it. It can keep you alive, and a lack of it can get you killed. Never underestimate its impact."_

"Yes master," he muttered to himself.

It was now almost two weeks since he had begun his covert observation of Spyro as he went about his new life in Warfang, and the complete lack of any developments or events of interest was rapidly beginning to grate on Nexus's nerves. However, he wasn't about to let something like restlessness distract him now. Just as he had learned on that day five years ago, being hasty would do him no good now. If he tried to force the situation, it would only come back to harm him.

Even so, he couldn't help but feel frustrated. A week after first infiltrating the dragon city Nexus had returned to the Well of Souls to hear the reports of his grublin minions, and as he had been expecting the three divisions of his army had set up in position outside the three dragon settlements and were awaiting his instructions. A few scouts had revealed their presence, and tension was clearly mounting within the settlements. But to Nexus's surprise and bewilderment, there was absolutely no sign of this as of yet in Warfang. Life for the guardians, and more importantly Spyro, continued undisturbed, completely oblivious to the threat that had arisen beyond their walls. Nexus was astounded by what he could only imagine to be an utter breakdown in intelligence gathering operations or a total indifference for the safety of these other dragons that went against everything the young purple dragon had thought he had known about the dragon leaders. How could they not know by now that something was wrong?

Nexus hadn't counted on this mission of his getting off to such a slow start. When he'd first arrived in the Dragon Realms, he'd thought that he would be well on his way to convincing Spyro to return with him to his master by now. Instead he had hardly accomplished anything, and now his entire plan was completely stalled. Until the guardians reacted to the presence of his grublins, he was stuck. Everything was depending on them making the response he hoped they would.

But patience would see him through, Nexus constantly reminded himself, and he was all but certain that his master would likely be thinking the same thing. From time to time he had wondered if his master was displeased by his slow progress, but then again he was talking about a dragon that had spent countless generations waiting for the chance for his imprisonment to be ended. Patience was all he knew, and so Nexus felt confident that he would have whatever time he needed to execute his plan. So long as he didn't make some kind of slip up and find himself in an unrecoverable situation, he felt he had nothing to fear.

The sudden sound of flapping wings caught his attention, and curiously he raised his head from the stone floor of the dark room to peer out an old window. A moment later an earth dragon wearing light armour of a polished bronze colour passed by his hiding place, heading for the temple at a rapid pace. He was clearly in a hurry, and this immediately piqued Nexus's interest.

_Is something finally happening?_ he wondered, rising to his feet and moving closer to the window to see more clearly.

The earth dragon came in for a hasty landing in the temple courtyard before rushing up the stone steps that led to the massive building's main entrance. When he got there two moles hurried out to greet him. Some form of words were exchanged, though Nexus couldn't hope to hear anything from this distance. Then the two moles ran off toward one of the sets of steps leading down from the temple grounds into the city while the earth dragon ran into the temple. Nexus straightened up in surprise and keen interest when he realized that the moles were headed for the residence where Spyro's room was located, which Nexus knew was where the purple dragon was now.

"Something is definitely happening," he muttered to himself, creeping out through an opening in the wall of the abandoned room that led out onto the building's roof.

Only a couple of minutes later he saw Spyro appear on his balcony, followed promptly by Cynder and the young red dragoness that had arrived in the city a few days before. They all quickly took to the air and winged their way to the temple entrance, a flight that took only a few seconds to complete. Then they disappeared inside the building with a clear air of haste about their steps.

Nexus gave a mildly annoyed sigh when he lost sight of Spyro and his companions. He had only expected that if there was some kind of news it would be relayed deep inside the temple, away from watching eyes, but still he was disappointed that he would have to wait for the dragons to come back outside for him to know what was happening. He was just about to turn around to return to his shelter when a strange feeling within him caused him to pause. It was like a faint, unusual pressure at the base of his skull, steadily growing until it couldn't be ignored. A small chill ran through him as he sensed another presence around him and in him all of a sudden, and a second larger chill ran through him when he realized that the presence was familiar.

"_You may find that you want to hear what that messenger has to say,"_ an unmistakeable voice rumbled, as if from the very air around him.

"Master?" Nexus said curiously, looking around. He was still alone on the rooftop, no one else anywhere near him, and yet at the same time he felt like he wasn't alone at all.

"_Do not bother trying to see me,"_ his master's voice said impatiently. _"I'm communicating with you through the vision pool. I can see you, but you won't be able to see me."_

"I didn't know that was possible," Nexus said with a great deal of surprise.

"_Indeed. And that's not the only thing you do not know, but now is not the time. There are more pressing matters to attend to, so pay attention."_

Nexus nodded firmly and waited.

"_As you are aware, I am not one to spend my time guiding my servants through every obstacle. However, your mission is of paramount importance, so for you I am making an exception."_

"What do you need, master?"

"_You have done well to get this far, Nexus, and from what I can gather of the plan you are forming it is a clever one indeed. However, you are about to let the chance you have been waiting for slip by. That is not acceptable."_

"What do you mean? What chance? Does it have to do with that dragon?"

"_Yes. I suspect that you will find what he has to say of great usefulness for you. Now go. And in the future, try to be more vigilant. I do not want to be informing you constantly when you are about to miss something of key importance."_

"Yes master," Nexus replied quickly, feeling a swell of anxiousness at the clear displeasure in the other dragon's deep, cold voice. "It won't happen again."

"_See that it doesn't."_

The presence began to fade away, the pressure in Nexus's skull dissipating gradually until, once again, he was alone on the rooftop. He shuddered as he recalled the unexpected and unnerving sensation. He had always known in the back of his mind that his master had probably been watching his every move, but this encounter only served to make that fact inescapably clear.

_Better get moving_, he told himself, and after glancing around quickly to make sure no one was watching him he leapt into the air and pounded his wings for the temple. In only a couple of seconds he had reached the high rooftop that overlooked the entirety of the city, but he didn't even acknowledge the stunning view now. Instead he moved around to the eastern side of the raised dome in the centre of the building and soon found the row of small windows that he had been seeking. Creeping forward on his stomach, he edged ever closer to one of the small openings until he could see into the massive chamber within. As he had suspected, the three guardians, Spyro, Cynder, and the two young fire dragons were there, along with the earth dragon messenger and the red-cloaked cheetah he had seen around often enough.

Scarcely even breathing, Nexus strained to hear their conversation, a growing feeling of anticipation rising within him. For some reason, he felt certain that whatever he was about to hear would change everything.

***.*.***

"Good, you're all here," Terrador said as Spyro, Cynder, Faren and Sparx passed through the high doorway that led into the temple's central hall and found the three guardians, Sirius and Hunter already waiting for them. "Then perhaps we can begin. I'm told this is a matter of great urgency?"

To Spyro's surprise, those last words were in the form of a question and not a declaration. When Terrador turned his large head to gaze at a fifth dragon in the room, he followed the guardian's gaze and found himself looking at an earth dragon that was marginally smaller than Terrador was. He was wearing bronze scout's armour, and looked as if he was only barely beginning to regain his breath after a long, hurried flight. The purple dragon immediately became suspicious and exchanged a quick glance with Cynder, wondering what could be behind this dragon's unexpected appearance.

"Yes, Master Terrador," the scout dragon nodded, sounding a little bit short of breath. "I just got back from my latest journey to the northern dragon settlement and just met with the other two messengers. All three of us have discovered the same thing, and...well, to be frank, Master Terrador, it's not good."

"What's happened?" Sirius asked anxiously, and Spyro could easily see the nervous look in the fire dragon's eyes at the hint that something was wrong at his home. Beside him, Spyro noticed that Faren also appeared worried.

"Yes, tell us what you know," Terrador nodded.

The earth dragon nodded quickly before taking a long, deep breath to try and regain some of his wind. When he spoke again it was with a slightly steadier tone.

"Well, as you know, recently we have been sending messengers less and less often to the outlying settlements as it became clear to us that everything was secure there and that there was little progress to be made at the time in convincing any of them to return here to Warfang. When the latest group of messengers, including myself, set out from Warfang four days ago, it had been two weeks since the last round of messengers returned."

"Yes, yes, we know all of that," Cyril cut in impatiently. "Now what of the reason as to why you called us all here?"

"Of course, Master Cyril. I'm sorry," the messenger said, bowing his head apologetically. "Well, you see, apparently in the time since our last messengers visited, there have been some...concerning developments."

"Such as..." Terrador pressed, also appearing to become impatient.

The earth dragon looked away anxiously, appearing greatly troubled by something, and Spyro could feel a nagging sense of anxiousness growing within him now as well. Something clearly wasn't right, and he just knew that whatever this messenger said next was something that he wasn't going to like.

"Grublins, Master Terrador," the earth dragon sighed at last. "There have been grublins sighted close to all three settlements."

"Grublins?" Terrador repeated, his head rocking back in surprise.

"Oh, dear," Volteer moaned. "This is most concerning, troubling, disturbing, unsettling..."

"Whoa, whoa, hold up!" Sparx cut in suddenly, causing every head in the room to turn toward him. "I thought that the grublin thing was all just a false alarm. I mean, after Hunter told us about the grublins at the Well of Souls a little while ago, everything went quiet, didn't it?"

"For a time, yes," Hunter nodded. "However that development was quite concerning in itself. Clearly the activity around the mountain diminished because the grublins were mobilizing their forces."

"Indeed, and toward the outlying settlements," Terrador rumbled grimly. He turned back toward the messenger. "How bad have these sightings been?"

"Relatively infrequent for the moment," the earth dragon replied. "There was no sign of any kind of amassed bulk of troops anywhere, just a few roving bands of the creatures. However..."

"Yes?"

The messenger gave another tense breath. "Two young dragons from the mountain shelter were apparently attacked a number of nights ago."

"Attacked?" Spyro exclaimed, caught by surprise. "Are they alright?"

"According to the elders, they suffered some minor wounds but are fine. No other grublins have been seen around their village since, but the elders are extremely concerned by the incident. They were not happy when our messenger spoke to them, apparently."

"Well, no surprise there," Cyril grunted. "Here we've been telling them for weeks now that all danger has passed, and then two of their young ones are attacked? I would be furious, myself, and would not bear the kindest of sentiments toward the dragons that misled me."

"Even if it was unintentional," Terrador nodded with a tense sigh. He turned once more to the messenger. "Have any of the settlements requested assistance?"

The messenger shook his head. "No. For the time being they seem to think that the threat is small enough that they can deal with it themselves. The two underground villages seem like they would rather continue to hide and hope that their locations are not discovered. The eastern city, however, is of a more direct mindset. They have declared that if the grublins make any kind of move against their city they will defend it with all their might."

Terrador grunted thoughtfully and turned toward Sirius. "And what do you think of that?"

"Well..." Sirius said uncertainly, glancing away in thought for a moment. "The city is fairly defendable. It has a wall around it like Warfang does, though not nearly as big, and our guard is well equipped. They should be able to hold out against a small to moderately-sized force, but if there's going to be a battle there then I think we should still go to help them."

Terrador gave another grunt and nodded, looking away as he considered all that he had heard. He looked up toward the other guardians. "What do you think?"

"I suppose it can't hurt to double-check on their situations," Cyril said. "This isn't very much information to go on. We need to know more about the extent of the threat these grublins pose. If they are just a few scattered bands like the reports suggest then perhaps they will pass the cities by eventually."

"But we still have an army from the Well of Souls to account for," Volteer pointed out.

"Indeed," Terrador nodded. "Something about this feels wrong to me. We need to learn more about what is happening."

"Should we send out another wave of scouts?" Cyril suggested.

Terrador quickly shook his head. "No, we need more that just more scouts. We need to send someone that can investigate these reports in more detail."

Silence descended over the group for a long moment as they all considered the situation, searching for a solution. Spyro was trying to sort through all that he had heard in those few short minutes, wondering what would be the best course of action to take. He was having no luck in finding a solution, however, but at that moment he felt something brush against his side. He quickly turned his head to see Cynder looking at him.

"We could go," she said to him quietly. "We have plenty of experience with grublins, after all."

"You're right," Spyro nodded, realizing that she had a good point.

He considered her suggestion for another couple of seconds before making up his mind and clearing his throat to get the attention of the guardians. All eyes turned toward him immediately.

"We'll go," he declared.

The three guardians looked surprised by the offer for a moment and exchanged quick glances before their expressions turned thoughtful.

"Yes, that might be a good idea," Terrador rumbled. "After all, the two of you have certainly proven yourselves capable in hazardous situations before. But are you sure? We don't know what might be waiting for you out there."

"That's kind of the point, isn't it?" Cynder asked with a wry smirk. "We can both look after ourselves."

Spyro nodded firmly in agreement. "You don't have to worry about us."

Terrador was silent for a long moment, exchanging occasional glances with the other guardians. Spyro knew that they must be reluctant to accept their offer and risk putting two dragons as young as themselves at risk. However, the fact couldn't be ignored that the two of them had overcome unbelievable odds before, and grublins were nothing that they wouldn't be able to handle.

"Very well, then," Terrador nodded, his voice slightly tense. "If you're both certain..."

"We are," Cynder said firmly.

Terrador gave another small nod before turning for one last glance with the other guardians.

"Fine. Then you will depart for two of the settlements as soon as possible."

"Two?" Cynder and Spyro both said in unison, surprised.

"You mean we wouldn't be going together?" Spyro asked anxiously.

He glanced back at Cynder and saw her looking at him with the same worry and reluctance that he was feeling. After their most recent adventure, it seemed unimaginable that they be anywhere other than by each other's side as they ventured out into another unknown situation. For Spyro it wasn't just a matter of them being a good team either. He simply didn't _want_ to be separated for any length of time, and it was clear that Cynder felt the same.

The guardians clearly understood their troubles, but Terrador held firm with his decision.

"I know that you both may be more comfortable in each other's company than alone for something like this, but the experience that you both have means that it would be a waste to have you both in the same place. With you split up, we can at least be confident that we will get good information on the state of two of the settlements."

"I'm positive that it won't be for very long," Volteer added in a cheerful tone. "A few days at most. You'll be reunited before you know it."

"I guess," Spyro sighed resignedly, though a large part of him still wanted to push for the guardians to reconsider.

He felt Cynder nudge him gently with a wing, and he looked back and gave a small, half-hearted smile of gratitude for her comfort. He could see that she felt just as reluctant and even sad as he did, though, and he dreaded the time that they would have to part ways.

"And I can go to the eastern city," Sirius offered quickly. "Then all three outlying cities are covered."

"I understand your anxiousness to make certain of the safety of your home, my young dragon," Terrador chuckled. "But I'm afraid that we can't allow that."

"What?" Sirius exclaimed, taken aback. "Why not? If they can go, why can't I?"

"Because you have greater responsibilities at this time," Cyril replied matter-of-factly. "You are a guardian in training. You can't go running off any time you feel like it."

"But that's my home!"

"We understand," Terrador said gently, raising a paw in a calming gesture. "However, Cyril is correct. Your training is of paramount importance now. For the next several years of your life it will be your only priority unless circumstances of the most urgent nature arise. And even aside from your training, as a guardian it is important that you consider more than just your own feelings. From now on, you will have a responsibility toward all dragons that will be looking to you for guidance. You cannot ignore them for personal matters."

Sirius sighed heavily and his head sagged toward the ground with bitter disappointment. It seemed to Spyro as if the full weight of his new position may have just hit home for him. He felt sorry for the fire dragon in that moment, but he knew better than to say anything. It wasn't his place to pry into guardian matters such as this.

"However, it would be of benefit if someone familiar with the city were to be the one to travel there," Cyril spoke up again. "It might greatly facilitate matters. Young Faren, perhaps?"

"Me?" Faren squeaked in surprise and some fear.

"You want her to go all the way to the eastern city alone?" Sirius exclaimed, concern written all over his expression as he glanced quickly back and forth between his sister and the guardians. "What about the grublins?"

"I...I don't know if I can..." Faren said nervously, her voice wavering slightly.

"Of course the choice is yours," Terrador said quickly. "However, it would likely help matters greatly if someone the citizens knew and trusted were the one to inquire into the state of the city, especially if they're feeling threatened at the present time. Because your father is the chief elder there, especially, it would make things considerably easier."

"Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense..."

"I can see no reason as to why you would have to undertake this journey all by yourself either," Volteer added in his usual overly-rapid manner.

"Hunter, perhaps?" Cyril suggested.

All eyes turned toward the cheetah, who promptly nodded his head.

"I would be glad to accompany her," he said.

Spyro looked back to Faren expectantly. She was clearly still very uncertain and anxious, but the idea of having a travelling companion seemed to ease some of her worry. Still, she didn't answer for almost a full minute.

"We don't want you to feel pressured," Terrador said reassuringly. "If you don't want to do this, we won't make you. We will gladly find another messenger."

Still Faren hesitated, clearly conflicted between her two options. She looked first toward Hunter, as if trying to measure how protective of a travelling companion he would be. Then she turned to look at her brother, but he said nothing. His concern was still evident, but he was going to allow his sister to make her own decision. Lastly the young dragoness turned toward Spyro and Cynder, as if hoping for some kind of reassurance from dragons her own age that were venturing out of Warfang just like she was being asked to. Spyro offered a light smile, and beside him Cynder did the same.

"If you go, you'll be safe with Hunter," Spyro assured her.

"Yeah," Cynder nodded. "Trust us; we know."

"But once again, it's your decision," Terrador said.

Faren sighed, clearly under a great deal of stress, but at length she lifted her gaze to meet Tarrador's. In a small, shaky voice, she said, "If it will help, I'll do it."

Terrador smiled. "Good. Thank you, Faren. That will be a great help for us." Then he turned toward Spyro and Cynder. "That leaves the two more northern villages for the both of you. Cynder, why don't you take the northern underground city? That leaves the mountain village for you, Spyro."

"Okay," Spyro agreed, and Cynder nodded as well.

"Very good. That just leaves the matter of what routes you'll take to get to your destinations, I suppose. Hunter, since you'll be travelling with Faren I'm sure there will be no trouble finding your way to the eastern city, but Spyro and Cynder, I don't suppose you know your way to the other two villages."

Spyro and Cynder both shook their heads apologetically. Terrador grunted.

"As I expected. No matter. I have a map in my chambers with their locations marked. We'll go have a look at it once we're finished here."

"Wait, so we're actually going to go wandering out in the wilderness when we know there are grublins out there?" Sparx asked incredulously. "Am I the only sane one in here?"

"You don't have to come, Sparx," Spyro pointed out. "If you want to stay here, I won't think any less of you."

"I might," Cynder muttered under her breath with a half-smirk, just barely loud enough for Spyro to hear. He grinned. Fortunately, Sparx didn't hear the dragoness's remark.

"Yeah, but then what would I do? Sit around here waiting for you to come back, worrying that something had happened to you just like before? I don't think I could handle it again." He sighed loudly. "No, I'd better come with you..."

Spyro felt a twinge of sympathy for his brother, who clearly didn't want to venture off into potential danger again so soon after they had rid themselves of the last threat. But then, suddenly an idea popped unbidden into his head.

"Actually, I think there's something you could do, Sparx," he said.

"Really?" Sparx asked, arching an eyebrow curiously. "Like what?"

Spyro was aware that everyone in the chamber was gazing inquisitively at him, all of them just as curious as Sparx was. He felt slightly self-conscious with them all watching him, especially with what he was about to suggest, but he pressed on regardless.

"Well, while Cynder, Hunter, Faren and I are checking up on the dragon settlements, what if you went to check on our home in the swamp?"

Sparx's eyes widened in surprise. "Home?"

Spyro nodded. "Think about it. It's been over three years since we left, Sparx. We don't know if something happened there in the time that we were gone. Someone should go and make sure they're all still alright and that the war didn't affect them."

"Yeah, but...go home without you?"

There was a hint of sadness in his voice, and Spyro felt a tug at his heart when he heard it. He truly did want to see the place where he had grown up again, and clearly Sparx felt it wasn't right that they not return there together, but Spyro knew that it couldn't be helped. He glanced toward the guardians, who were all watching him closely.

"I have to do this, Sparx," the purple dragon sighed. "But it would really mean a lot to me to know that our home and our family are safe. Would you do that for me?"

Sparx hesitated, torn between his reluctance to go without Spyro and the purple dragon's pleading expression. But then a small smile slowly crossed his features, and he gave a quiet chuckle before patting his brother on the horn.

"Of course I will, buddy," the dragonfly said. "Hey, I'll give Mom and Dad your best, huh? Man, I bet they'll be surprised. They probably don't even know if we're still alive!"

"Yeah, I know," Spyro said in a subdued tone, looking away guiltily. "They must have been so worried when they never heard from us again..."

"Hey, don't sweat it big guy," Sparx said reassuringly. "I'll set things straight in no time."

Spyro smiled gratefully up at him, and Sparx patted his horn again.

"It's decided, then," Terrador declared happily. "I think it would be best if you all set off at the earliest you possibly can. The journey to the settlements is at least two days in length when flying in all cases. Tomorrow morning is probably the best time for you to depart. That will give you the rest of today to rest and prepare."

The dragons all nodded their heads in agreement.

"Good, then I think we can call this discussion to a close. Spyro, Cynder, if you'll follow me, I'll show you the routes you'll be following once you depart tomorrow."

Spyro and Cynder both nodded quickly and hurried to follow the massive earth dragon as he rose to his feet and headed for the southern door of the chamber, through which they would find the stairs leading up to the guardian's quarters. As they walked, Spyro found his mind flooded with questions about all he had heard that day. Where had these grublins come from? Why were they gathering around the three outlying settlements while Warfang seemed to pass completely unnoticed? Why had two young dragons been the only ones to be attacked so far?

Most of all, he wondered what he would find when he eventually reached his destination. For some reason, he had a nagging feeling deep inside himself that, whatever it was, he wasn't going to like it.

***.*.***

"Yes," Nexus muttered to himself, a thrill of excitement rising within him as he watched the group of dragons dispersing in the chamber. "Yes, yes, yes! This is _perfect_!"

Filled with an excitement and anticipation that he hadn't felt in days, Nexus jumped to his feet and turned around to face westward. He then leapt into the air and pounded his wings rapidly, reaching a tremendous speed in only moments. As he raced over the rooftops of the city he was aware of many dragons and moles looking up at him curiously, wondering what a young dragon like himself could be doing in such a rush, but he no longer cared if he was noticed. His work in the city was now finished anyway, and he wouldn't be coming back in this form again. This would be the last time anyone in Warfang would ever see the mysterious, nameless young fire dragon.

Within a few minutes he had passed the city's outer wall, ignoring the shouts of surprise of the mole sentries on the ramparts as he shot past only a dozen feet above their heads. He then dove sharply for the earth beyond the wall, aiming for the trees ahead. Mere moments later he had punched through the canopy of the trees and disappeared from the sight of anyone in the city.

He paused just long enough to catch his breath and to revert back into his natural purple form before swiping at the air and opening a miniature convexity portal and jumping inside. Seconds later he emerged at his destination; a thickly wooded valley between rolling hills, far to the north of Warfang, farther north even than the volcano that had served as the location of Malefor's lair for three years. When he emerged from the portal he immediately looked around, searching for any signs of activity around him, but he was puzzled when he found nothing.

"Where are they?" he muttered to himself.

He whirled around when he suddenly heard the sound of a bush rustling behind him. As soon as his gaze fell upon it, however, the bush was still once again. Scowling with irritation, Nexus slammed a forepaw against the ground in front of him. A second later the bush lurched violently as the earth beneath it heaved upward, and with a startled squeal two grublins came tumbling out, losing their grips on their weapons as they landed in a pair of rough heaps on the ground at the purple dragon's feet.

"The report said that the encampment was near here," he said impatiently. "Is it?"

Staggering quickly to their feet, the two grublins nodded nervously.

"Good. Go there now and relay this message: the time has come for the next step of my plan. Two days from now at the latest, Cynder will be arriving at this village from Warfang. I want this division to move out as soon as possible and launch an assault on the village before then. Do as much damage as you can, but the village's complete destruction is not of primary importance. Weaken the dragons, and spread as much fear as you can without losing too many of your own forces. Understood?"

The grublins nodded vigorously.

"And one more thing," Nexus added, almost as if it were an afterthought. "If you see Cynder, do _not_ kill her. She can still be useful for my plan. Is that clear?"

The grublins nodded again before spinning about and disappearing into the underbrush at a rapid clip, barely pausing long enough to retrieve their weapons. Satisfied that the message would be delivered, Nexus turned around before opening yet another convexity portal.

Things went very similarly at his next stop. After emerging in the marshy forest lands just to the south of the swamps and just to the north of the eastern dragon city, Nexus promptly located the next grublin division where the report had stated they would be, hidden away in a network to dens, burrows and underground tunnels. His message for them was the same as the one he had given before: Attack the city within the next two days, do as much damage as possible without losing too many forces, and do not kill Spyro's friends if at all possible. Once he was certain that his instructions were understood, Nexus opened a third and final portal and jumped inside, emerging deep in the mountain range far to the north-west of Warfang. In short order he had found the grublin camp and was soon standing before the division's leader.

"Listen up," he instructed firmly. "We have a lot of work to do in a very short amount of time. How ready is this division to move out?"

The grublin paused in thought for a moment, consulting quietly with a couple of other grublins that stood with it before turning back to face Nexus and replying in the grublins' rough language, 'The division can be ready to move in a day at the earliest.'

"Make it sooner," Nexus ordered. "We move out at nightfall."

The grublins chattered in surprise and dismay at this announcement, creating a din that hurt Nexus's ears.

"Quiet!" he snapped. "This isn't up for discussion. It's essential that we move tonight, you understand? Now get the division ready!"

The grublins didn't dare to protest any further. Instead they spun about and ran off into the secluded grublin encampment, passing along Nexus's instructions. Within minutes the entire division was making ready to depart.

The rest of the day passed relatively quickly, the constant activity making it seem like the day was passing in no time at all. Nexus did very little over the course of the next several hours other than focus on recovering his energy; using his convexity portals to travel such vast distances that day had taken a great deal out of him. Not long after arriving in the mountains he was able to locate a cluster of green spirit gems and greedily smashed it, absorbing the waves of fresh energy from the resulting fragments before giving a satisfied sigh and laying down to rest while the grublins worked feverishly to make ready to depart by his deadline. At first he was afraid they wouldn't be able to make it, but surprisingly when the sun set the entire division was somehow ready to depart.

The march northward was a short one. As the sky above them continued to darken, the first stars of the night appearing one by one, Nexus felt his anticipation and excitement rising with every step he took. This was it. This was when he truly set his plan in motion. After that night, Spyro's life would never be the same. Everything he had come to know in that world would come crashing down, leaving him with nothing to keep him locked in this word. Spyro himself didn't even know it yet, but his life in this world was about to change dramatically forever.

When they reached their destination and the grublins pointed out the location of the 'secret' entrance to the underground village, however, Nexus found a snag that he hadn't been expecting. He frowned when he saw that the entire cavern entrance was sealed tightly shut by a massive slab of solid rock. Clearly an earth dragon had created this barrier, hoping to prevent anyone from entering the village. Puzzled and suspicious, Nexus turned slowly to face the grublin leader and fixed the small creature with a scrutinizing glare.

"Do you know why this entrance is sealed?" he asked, a dangerous edge in his tone.

The grublin fidgeted anxiously in place, immediately confirming Nexus's initial suspicions that the grublins in fact did know the reason. He remembered the conversation he had overheard in the temple earlier that day, and the reason became immediately clear.

"Do you think it might have something to do with the two dragons your forces attacked near here a few days ago?"

The grublin gulped nervously but didn't answer. This, however, only fuelled the purple dragon's anger.

"I thought I said that _no_ moves were to be made against the dragons here until I gave further instructions!" he roared. "What reason did you possibly have to attack, then?"

The grublin squealed in fear in the face of his anger before beginning a panicked explanation, chattering and grunting so quickly that Nexus could barely understand what was being said. At the end of the explanation, though, he wasn't impressed.

"So your scouting party went on the attack because they were stupid enough to get in the path of a random earth missile?"

The grublin didn't reply, only looked away guiltily, and Nexus groaned and rolled his eyes.

_I swear, if I didn't still need them, I'd wipe them all out right now and spare the world from any more of their stupidity!_

"Well, it doesn't matter anymore," he sighed. "They may be on heightened alert because of this idiotic mistake, but it won't do them any good. Is the division ready to move in?"

The grublin nodded quickly.

"Good."

The small creature then made a string of inquiring noises.

"The plan?" Nexus repeated. "The plan is simple. Strike as much fear into the hearts of the dragons in this village before Spyro arrives two days from now."

The grublin cocked its head to the side curiously, and several more around them did the same. Then the leader spoke up in a question that translated to, 'So we're not trying to destroy the village?'

"No, on the contrary, I want most of the dragons here to survive this attack," Nexus replied, a strange grin beginning to form on his muzzle, causing the grublins to exchange puzzled glances. "After all, Spyro needs to have someone to welcome him when he arrives." He chuckled darkly. "And if I'm right, it will sure be one nasty welcome. After all, he's about to attack their home."

His grin grew more menacing in that moment, a glint of twisted pleasure in his eyes, and the grublins gasped and backed nervously away as Nexus's body began to change. This time as he called on his shape-shifting power, the changes were much more subtle than they had been when he had taken on the appearance of a fire dragon, though the result was just as surprising. His scales retained most of their colouring, save for areas like his chest and wings which brightened slightly. His body structure underwent only the slightest of modifications. The end result still left the grublins gaping in shock, however, because they now found themselves looking at a dragon that they all knew about, and that a rare few of them had even seen before.

There, standing before them, was the spitting image of Spyro.

"Now get ready," Nexus ordered, and he smirked when he heard not his own voice but Spyro's coming from his jaws. "Remember, our goal is to create fear. Kill if you must, but I want most of the dragons in this village to survive the night. Understood?"

After a moment passed in silence while the grublins worked to overcome their surprise and shock at seeing their leader transform before their eyes, they all nodded their heads sharply. All at once an air of sinister eagerness descended over the area, the grublins all feeling a swell of anticipation for the battle that was about to begin. They brandished their weapons, ready for the blood of dragons. Nexus grinned with satisfaction before turning about to face the blocked entrance of the cavern.

"Ready!" he called.

The grublins gave a chilling cry in response, hundreds of voices combining to create a din that echoed through the mountains.

Sucking in a deep breath, Nexus charged up the most powerful earth missile he could manage before cracking his jaws open wide and shooting the rocky projectile straight into the centre of the stone barricade. The earth missile struck with explosive force, the impact sending a spider-web pattern of cracks through the rock and punching clear through to the other side, the entire barrier getting blown inward amidst an enormous cloud of dust. For a moment the sound of crumbling rocks and the echoes of Nexus's earth missile attack were the only sounds to be heard in the valley between the mountains before an eager, bloodthirsty cry burst forth from the throats of every grublin in the area. All as one the dark creatures surged forward like a tidal wave of earthy bodies, both land-bound and airborne varieties. Nexus lingered back for a moment as he watched his army flocking into the new opening in the earth, their cries filling the cavern and striking terror into the hearts of every dragon within. Then, with a cold air of purpose about his steps, he slowly began advancing toward the opening he had created, his grin spreading wider with each step he took.

Spyro's assault on the mountain dragon village had just begun.


	13. Chapter 12

**Woohoo! It's here! The chapter I've been looking forward to writing so much is finished! And boy, is it a big one...**

**Why do I like this chapter so much? Two simple reasons:**

**1. My two favourite OC's together in one chapter.**

**2. Big action scenes!**

**Or, you could just read and find out for yourself! Enjoy.**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 12:<span>_

"Sweet Ancestors, my forelegs are aching!" Claymore moaned as he and Flash made their way slowly through the streets of the underground village, heading toward their home after a long, _long_ day had finally come to a close. "It's torture, what they're doing to us. It's not humane."

Flash's only reply was a weary snort. He was so tired that he felt like he might fall asleep at any moment and simply collapse on the spot in the street, but the twinges of pain that shot up from his forelegs with every step he took kept him awake. Like Claymore, his forelegs were terribly sore from the hours of labour the two of them had just completed.

After the two of them had returned to the caverns the night that they had been attacked by the grublins, they had immediately been taken to the elders to report on what had happened. Not surprisingly, the aged dragons had almost gone into a panic upon hearing that grublins had actually made an aggressive move so close to their home. It was very clear by that point that the grublins that had been spotted roaming through the mountains weren't simply passing by. They were lingering in the area, and it only made matters worse that they had openly attacked the only two dragons to show themselves in the open recently. The order had been given immediately for the two cavern entrances—both the main western entrance and the smaller, more hidden northern secondary exit—to be sealed up by earth dragons as soon as possible. For the time being no dragons were to leave the cavern, and certainly no grublins were to get in. The orders had been carried out swiftly, barriers of solid stone erected that no one but an earth dragon could ever get through. There seemed to be no imaginable threat of the grublins ever getting inside.

With that threat taken care of, the elders had then turned their attention to the two young, wounded dragons they had found standing before them, shaking from the after-effects of adrenaline from their battle and from anxiety about what the elders would do to them. The discussion to decide what to do with them had been a lengthy one indeed. One of the elders had suggested that they release the two young ones without punishment—in their opinion, Flash and Claymore had already received enough of a punishment from the grublins themselves, and there was no need to administer any more. Two of the other elders, on the other hand, had nearly demanded for a public lashing to set an example of the two for breaking the village's strictest, most often repeated rule and putting everyone in the village at risk if the grublins had followed them back.

In the end, the elders had settled for a middle ground. After spending a good portion of the next day in the infirmary having their wounds treated, the two had been sentenced to a month of community service at the village's small dragon academy. Every day after classes they were forced to linger behind and help scrub every single floor until they were completely spotless. It was a gruelling task, and at the end of each day both dragons were exhausted and their forelegs burned from the relentless strain they were subjected to.

"It would be so much easier if we were ice dragons," Flash grumbled. "At least then we wouldn't have to carry those water pales everywhere all the time. My neck is killing me from the weight of the stupid thing!"

"I know what you mean," Claymore grunted, tilting his head to stretch out his own neck. There was an audible crack as a number of the vertebrae popped, and Flash cringed in disgust. "They're going to turn us into cripples if they keep working us like this."

Their home came into view ahead a few minutes later, and Flash gave a relieved sigh when they finally reached it. Once inside Claymore moved over to a small basin of water in the common area to try and wash off some of the grime that had built up on his forelegs from scrubbing the academy floors, but Flash didn't even pause for that. He instead headed straight for his room and collapsed on top of his cushions, overjoyed for the chance to finally rest his aching body. He hadn't even eaten anything that evening, but at that moment he couldn't care less. All he wanted was for sleep to overtake him and to erase the aches and pains from his body. Within moments he could feel himself drifting away, his discomfort melting away as he floated off toward a realm of peaceful dreams.

An ear-splitting crash erupted through the cavern mere instants before sleep could claim him, and Flash jolted up into the air with a panicked cry at the sudden noise. It sounded as if some kind of explosion had gone off somewhere beyond the western edge of the village, and Flash's heart was hammering from the unexpected scare.

"What was _that_?" he exclaimed, dashing out of his room and into the hall where he saw Claymore ahead in the common room, facing the door of the house with his whole body rigid from fight-or-flight instinct, a wide-eyed look of shock and fear on his face. "Claymore, did you see anything?"

"No, nothing!" the larger earth dragon replied, shaking his head quickly. "But it sounded like it came from the cavern entrance. Maybe something broke down the barrier."

"What, though?"

Just then they were suddenly both aware of a strange sound echoing through the cavern from somewhere far to the west. It was difficult to make out at first, but as it began to grow in volume Flash realized that it sounded like some kind of excited cry from countless voices. There was something deeply unsettling about the sound, and Flash felt a chill run through him as it continued to grow louder. Just then it finally clicked what they were hearing, and Flash and Claymore both exchanged horrified looks.

"Grublins," Claymore gasped.

"A lot of them," Flash said weakly.

"We shouldn't stay here," Claymore muttered. He ran over to Flash's side and began pulling him toward the door of the house. "Come on, let's go!"

Flash nodded quickly and followed after his brother as he ran out of the house, all his weariness forgotten in an instant. His mind was reeling with questions as he ran. How had the grublins found the village? How had they gotten through the barrier? And how come there suddenly sounded like there were so many of them? Where had they all come from?

The streets were rapidly filling with panicked dragons as the cries of the grublins reached a deafening level in the enclosed cavern. Screams of fear and pain were rising from the western edge of the village. Flash couldn't see what was happening over the buildings that surrounded him, but he could easily hear the first sounds of battle echoing through the village. Every time the rumble of an earth attack or the crackle of flames reached his ears he winced, fear coursing through his entire being.

Ahead of him Claymore continued to push their pace faster and faster, trying to reach their destination as quickly as possible. The dragon elders had made certain during the war to establish a plan of action in the event that their village ever came under attack, but Flash found it slightly ironic that it had never been needed until now when the war was reported to be over. The plan called for all the younger dragons in the village to gather in the central courtyard where they could then be taken to a set of shelters constructed for an emergency just like this. That was exactly where Claymore was headed now, and Flash made certain to keep right on his tail. When they got there they found several other dragons their age already there, most of them accompanied by their parents and all of them looking terrified. A couple of older dragons were trying to direct everyone into the centre of the courtyard, but with panicked dragons running in all directions and the general roar of battle drowning out all other sounds, they seemed to be having almost no effect. Flash and Claymore barely managed to avoid being trampled on their way into the courtyard, and despite their best efforts they still ended up running full tilt into a large fire dragon that suddenly appeared in their path. Flash grunted as he fell back on his hindquarters, shaking his head to clear the stars from his vision before looking up at the dragon they had hit. He started when he realized that it was one of the village elders.

"You two?" he exclaimed, apparently shocked to see them both there. There were equal parts fear and anger in his voice and a panicked expression on his face. "What have you two done? You see this? You've led the grublins right to all of us!"

Flash was dumbfounded by what he was hearing, and out of shock he turned to look at his brother in the hopes that he might have some answer for this completely unpredicted accusation. He didn't even fully understand what was happening, and yet he was being blamed by an elder for all of it?

"Calm yourself," a deep commanding voice cut in suddenly, causing Flash, Claymore and the elder to all whirl around, startled. Flash blinked in surprise when he realized it was the village's chief elder. "If we waste our time blaming the young ones for this attack, then we will never be able to defend ourselves against it. Are the shelters ready?"

"Y-yes," the fire dragon elder nodded quickly, trying to regain his composure. "I was just about to take the first group of young dragons there myself."

"Good. Take them there now. I will wait here for the next group. Quickly!"

The fire dragon nodded hurriedly and spun around toward the group of waiting young dragons and parents, shouting for them to follow him. They all quickly gathered around him, ready to depart, and Flash and Claymore moved to follow when a sudden, ear-splitting explosion rent the air, causing everyone in the courtyard to jump and stagger in fear, many dragons crying out in alarm. Flash immediately whipped his gaze to the west and felt his chest constrict with horror when he saw a dark, crackling cloud of dark violet energy curling up into the air from somewhere on the edge of the village where the sounds of fighting were the most intense.

"What was that?" he shouted fearfully.

"I don't know," the earth dragon elder replied grimly. "I have never seen anything the likes of it before. Both of you, get moving. Quickly! Head for the shelters. Get to safety!"

"Come on, Flash!" Claymore exclaimed. "Let's go!"

"R-right," Flash stammered, and he turned to follow his brother as he began moving toward the east side of the courtyard, where the fire dragon elder was starting to lead the rest of the young dragons and their parents away. However, right at that moment he heard a new shout and faltered, turning around to see a battered earth dragon running toward the courtyard from the west at a reckless pace. Flash's eyes widened with horror when he noticed the many bleeding gashes he bore, as well as several large bruises.

"The western side of the village is overrun!" he shouted frantically, skidding to an unsteady halt in front of the chief elder, who was staring at the newcomer in shock. "We're no match for them! We need help over there!"

"How many grublins are there?" the elder asked, the first hints of fear creeping into his voice.

"I don't know," the earth dragon gasped, shaking his head helplessly. "Dozens. Hundreds. They're everywhere! But that's not all..."

He trailed off as he tried to catch his breath, but the elder looked as if he wasn't in a state of mind to wait for any answers. He took a rapid step forward and seized the other earth dragon by the shoulder, shaking him.

"What? What is it?" he demanded.

"The purple dragon," the earth dragon wheezed. "He's here..."

The elder's eyes nearly popped out of his head in shock, and he staggered back a step from the other dragon in disbelief.

"So the dragons from Warfang were telling the truth," he said in a quiet voice. "There is another purple dragon." Then his expression brightened hopefully. "Is he here to help fight the grublins? Did Warfang hear of the grublins in the area and send him to assist us?"

Flash could feel a faint thrill of excitement surging through him as he listened, scarcely allowing himself to hope that these words might be true. If the purple dragon was really there and could help them, then surely the grublins wouldn't stand a chance! But then, to his bewilderment, he saw the earth dragon shake his head insistently, an expression alarmingly close to despair on his battered features.

"No..." he gasped, still winded from his sprint from the western edge of the village. "No, he isn't fighting the grublins..."

"What are you talking about?" the elder demanded.

The earth dragon took a moment to suck in a huge breath of air, trying to calm the heaving of his chest. Then he looked up at the elder again, and Flash felt a horrible sinking feeling in his gut when he saw the look of hopelessness in his eyes.

"Sir...the purple dragon is leading them."

***.*.***

Nexus paused for a moment after passing through the entrance of the cavern to survey the situation laid out before him. A few hundred feet ahead and downhill the underground village began, small stone houses and other buildings arrayed in a fairly well-ordered layout that stretched far into the massive underground space, the buildings gradually growing larger the farther back they got in the cavern. Unlike most villages and cities where the largest buildings were in the centre, here it seemed obvious that construction had begun at the very back of the cavern and spread gradually westward from there. The back wall of the cavern was almost completely obscured by buildings, while most of the smaller houses wrapped around the remaining perimeter of the village. Many of his grublins had already reached these outlying houses, and the panicked cries of dragons could already be heard filling the air over the eager battle cries of the grublins.

"Fan out!" Nexus called out in a commanding tone. "I want the village's perimeter secured first! No dragon escapes this village tonight!"

There were several gruff cries of affirmation from many of the grublins nearby, and they quickly spread out to comply with the purple dragon's instructions. The division split roughly in two, with one half of the grublins branching off to the left to cut off the only other route out of the cavern while the other half pressed ahead, fanning out to enter the village as a wide line to keep any dragons from breaking past their ranks. Roughly two dozen grublins remained behind to cover the main entrance. Once this was all complete, Nexus began advancing toward the village himself, deciding to try and locate the village elders.

_Time to give the world a reason to fear Spyro_.

By the time he reached the first line of houses, his grublins had already overrun the area. Ahead Nexus could see dragons here and there fleeing in terror in the face of the army of vile creatures, leaving the grublins free to come and go as they pleased. They went from house to house, trashing everything they could get their gnarled hands on and making absolutely certain that nobody would forget this night any time soon. Several houses were already burning. Nexus had to admit that he was impressed by their work. The fear they were able to create using so little actual force was surprising, and what was more they were showing remarkable discipline to top it all off. For the most part any dragons they came across in the streets were left with only minor wounds, enough to cause pain and fear but not enough to be life threatening. Generally only those that fought back were killed and as a result Nexus came across very few bodies as he walked deeper into the village's streets.

A particularly loud commotion somewhere out of sight around a bend in the streets ahead on his left caught his attention. Nexus paused in consideration for a moment, debating whether he should go investigate or continue with his own search. Deciding that he was in no rush and that the elders wouldn't be able to leave the village anyway, Nexus moved in the direction of the thunderous sounds of battle. Within moments he'd reached a small open square off to the side of an intersection between roadways, which at that moment had been transformed from a peaceful social gathering area to a battleground. Three dragons were dug in on the eastern edge of the square, preventing fifteen land-bound grublins from advancing any further into the village.

The two earth dragons and one ice dragon were fighting viciously to keep the grublins from breaking past their defensive line. For a moment Nexus hung back off to the side, concealed by the wall of a damaged house and taking stock of the situation. In the square he could see the bodies of a dozen grublins that had already been struck down by the dragons, as well as the lifeless and battered form of a fire dragon on the square's northern edge. Now the remaining combatants on both sides seemed locked in a relative stalemate. The grublins were trying to circle around the square to engage the dragons up close where their elements provided them less of an advantage while a couple of grublin bowmen attempted to keep the dragons pinned down. However, the elemental attacks of the dragons were making it extremely difficult for the grublins to gain any ground without risking getting wiped out by the continuous blasts of earth and ice.

One of the grublins gave a sudden squeal of pain as an earth missile crashed into its shoulder with crushing force, causing the grublin to spin around before collapsing against the wall of the house behind which it had taken cover, critically injured by the powerful earth attack. Only an instant later the dragon that had fired the earth missile roared loudly as a grublin arrow struck it in the chest, just in front of its right shoulder. The other two dragons immediately ceased their attacks to look toward their injured comrade, filled with concern for him, and in this opening the remaining grublins charged. Yelping with surprise, the two uninjured dragons spewed out a wave of ice and earth missiles, trying desperately to halt the grublin advance. Only halfway to their targets when the stream of ice particles and speeding rocky projectiles began raining down on them, the grublins were forced to abandon their charge and again take cover. In the process two more of them were killed, but they had managed to get significantly closer to their enemies, and clearly the dragons were beginning to feel cornered. Nexus could easily see the fear in their expressions as they huddled together at the far end of the square, covering their fallen companion as he tried to yank the arrow out of his scales.

_This is going to take forever_, Nexus grumbled inwardly. _I guess I might as well speed things up since I'm here._

While both the grublins and dragons regrouped, Nexus abandoned his observing position at the edge of the square and began advancing right into the centre of the open space. The grublins noticed his presence first and immediately fell silent, all of them watching their leader with rapt attention and wondering what he was going to do. The dragons, meanwhile, didn't see him approaching until he had reached the centre of the square. Then, finally, the uninjured earth dragon looked up and saw him standing there. His eyes immediately became as wide as saucers, and he gave a weak gasp of shock.

"The purple dragon," the earth dragon said in an awed tone.

"What?" the ice dragon asked. He looked toward his companion before following the earth dragon's gaze. When he saw Nexus standing there he too let out a sharp gasp.

"How is this possible?" he muttered, eyes wide in disbelief. It seemed as though both he and the earth dragons had completely forgotten about the grublins by this point. "It was just a rumour!"

"Who cares?" the earth dragon exclaimed happily. "We're saved! Those grublins don't stand a chance now!"

"I wouldn't count on that," Nexus laughed mockingly.

The three dragons faltered and exchanged confused glances. Seeing their puzzled reaction caused Nexus to laugh darkly again before settling into a battle stance. The air around him began to crackle with energy as he drew on his electricity element, building up a tremendous charge in his body.

"Look out!" the uninjured earth dragon shouted, eyes going wide in panic when he realized what was about to happen.

Right at that moment Nexus shot his head forward and opened his jaws wide, a blazing stream of electricity as intense as lightning cutting through the air with a tremendous _SNAP!_ The three dragons ducked at the last possible moment and the bolt of electricity shot over their heads, missing by mere inches and striking the wall of the house behind them with terrible force, sending chips of stone debris and dust raining down on the dragons. By the time they looked back up, Nexus was already preparing another attack.

"Move!" the ice dragon cried, but it was too late.

This time, instead of shooting out his electricity as a steady stream, Nexus forced all the electrical energy into a small, brightly glowing orb before spitting it out toward the three dragons. As it sailed through the air toward them they all scrambled to get away, even the dragon with the arrow still in his scales, but they weren't quick enough. The instant the orb hit the ground at their feet it detonated, releasing all its built-up energy in an instant. The flash was nearly blinding and bolts of electricity arced through the air in all directions, dancing along the walls of the adjacent buildings and along the ground, crackling sharply. The three dragons were thrown into the air by the force of the blast, unable to utter so much as a gasp of surprise as the massive electrical charge surged through their bodies, momentarily paralyzing them completely. They landed several dozen feet apart from each other, and for a moment all three of them were still as the after-effects of the shock wore off. Then, groaning, they began to stagger to their feet.

Nexus never gave them the chance. The earth dragon on his left—the one without the arrow—was the first to push himself off the ground, but he had barely even gotten his forelegs under him before a blazing fireball slammed into his exposed left flank, exploding on impact and throwing the already-dazed dragon into the wall of the house behind him, leaving him in a heap on the ground, groaning and badly burned. The instant he hit the ground Nexus fired a massive earth missile at him, the projectile impacting with bone-shattering force. The resulting dust cloud obscured the dragon completely from view, but his roar of pain was still plainly audible. Without the slightest pause Nexus then spun to his right and slammed a forepaw against the ground. The earth shuddered and a large fissure opened up where his paw struck, racing toward the second earth dragon. The dragon grunted in fear and tried to scramble away but was too slow and an instant later the fissure reached him, the earth beneath him exploding without warning and knocking him back through the air as well, jagged shards of rock opening bleeding gashes all across his body. That only left the ice dragon.

He was clearly the quickest of the three, and therefore was the only one actually able to get to his feet before Nexus rounded on him. Out of desperation he exhaled a focussed stream of icy energy, trying to freeze Nexus solid on the spot. He nearly succeeded, too, but Nexus reacted just in time. Without so much as flinching he cracked his jaws wide open and unleashed a blazing beam of convexity. The beam completely overpowered the ice dragon's attack in an instant, scattering the ice stream in all directions before striking the ice dragon full force, launching him backward through the air before pushing him straight through the wall of the house behind him.

"Ooh," Nexus winced as the ice dragon disappeared within the darkened structure amidst a cloud of dust and debris that buried him instantly, smirking with dark humour. "That's gotta hurt."

A sudden roar from his left caught his attention, and Nexus whirled around just in time to see a grublin flying through the air with a jagged spear of ice through its chest about a hundred metres farther down the street. A moment later three more dragons appeared around a corner, one each of ice, fire, and earth. They immediately turned toward the square and charged, no doubt having heard the intense battle that had just occurred, but when they approached and saw Nexus more clearly they faltered and skidded to a halt, staring with wide eyes and mouths agape in shock. They quickly glanced around, taking in the scene, and Nexus could easily see the looks of horror that crossed their faces when their eyes fell on the broken body of the first earth dragon he had attacked. Then, all at once, the shock in their faces was replaced by a blazing anger and with a bellowing roar they resumed their charge.

Nexus gave a snort and rolled his eyes, amused that they would actually try a head-on attack against him. Then he kicked off the ground with his hind legs and rose into the air, causing the three dragons to slide to a halt once again and glare up at him, wondering what he was doing. As they stood there watching, Nexus shot them an evil grin before focussing his convexity power into his right forepaw, causing a pulsing orb of dark violet energy to form above his open pad. The three dragons' eyes widened in surprise and fear when they saw this, clearly having never seen convexity before, and they could only watch in mounting fear as the energy ball continued to grow. Then, mere seconds after he had begun forming the orb, Nexus spun about and hurled it with all his might at the three startled dragons, who had no chance of escaping before the ball struck the earth at their feet.

With a deafening roar, the energy ball exploded. The terrible blast of purple energy engulfed the width of the street and swallowed up the three dragons in an instant as it curled high into the air like a dark violet fireball. Nexus flinched slightly as the shockwave struck him, threatening to unbalance him as he hovered in the air, but he managed to keep from falling. When the smoke and dust cleared there was absolutely no sign of the three dragons that had been standing there a moment before. Nexus grinned triumphantly.

A sudden shrill cry from one of the grublins below caught his attention, and Nexus looked down to see one of the small creatures waving insistently for his attention and gesturing frantically down the street leading eastward out of the square. With a puzzled frown, Nexus looked to see the wounded earth dragon he had attacked earlier sprinting down the street as fast as he battered legs would carry him, yanking out the arrow with his jaws as he ran and throwing it aside.

"Let him go," Nexus said unconcernedly, dropping slowly back to the earth. "Let him spread the word of what he's seen. It'll only create more fear."

The grublin nodded and relaxed. All around him the other grublins were abandoning their cover and moving to rally around him in the square, awaiting his next instructions.

Nexus paused for a moment and examined them all, then turned his attention to the village around them. The sounds of battle could be heard echoing from every direction now, as well as the excited war cries of the grublins and the terrified screams of dragons. The clamour was almost overwhelming, but at the same time it filled Nexus with a thrill of excitement he had never experienced before. His first battle outside of training, and it was far better than he had ever imagined it would be.

"Come on," he said to the grublins, grinning excitedly. "You lot follow me. I think it's about time we found the elders of the village and paid them a visit."

The grublins gave a sharp, eager cry and brandished their weapons in the air. Satisfied, Nexus turned and set off at a jogging pace down the northbound street, weaving his way gradually deeper into the village, adrenaline and excitement coursing through his body as he sought out his next battle.

***.*.***

"Flash, come on!" Claymore called desperately from up ahead. "They're gaining!"

"I know!" Flash exclaimed fearfully in response, panting feverishly as he tried to push himself to run faster through the chaos in the streets.

Behind him he could hear the blood-chilling sound of grublin cries and cheers echoing between the walls of the buildings that lined the streets, seeing to grow louder with each second that passed. The occasional screams of terrified or wounded dragons that rose above the background rumble of haunting, chattering voices only added to the horrifying racket, and Flash desperately tried to block them out as he ran. Still, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't stop hearing them, striking him to the very core and filling him with dread.

They had been running for several minutes now, trying frantically to reach the back of the cavern where the shelters were located before they were overtaken by the surge of grublins that had begun to charge deeper into the village. When they glanced backward Flash and Claymore could frequently see the dark bodies of grublins between the buildings behind them, chasing after them. They couldn't even fly to escape their pursuers; flying gublins were everywhere, chasing down any dragons that took to the air before converging on their victims, battering them with their hardened clubs to drive them back down to earth, usually focussing their blows on the wings. To Flash, the idea of having his wings shattered by the grublins' clubs was just as terrifying as being overtaken by the ones on the ground, and so he and Claymore didn't dare risk flying.

A piercing cry suddenly cut the air from somewhere very nearby, and a second later Flash screamed as he felt his legs knocked out from underneath him, wincing as he felt a blade cutting into the scales of his forelegs. He crashed into the dusty street flat on his chest and face and rolled several metres before finally coming to a halt on his back, groaning from the fresh bruises all across his body and trying to force a breath into his battered chest.

"Flash!" Claymore cried.

The shrill screech came again, and Flash gave a startled squeal as a grublin leapt at him without warning, landing on his chest with a horrible, blood-lusting expression on its twisted face, its bladed weapon raised high over its head. The leading edge of the blade was coated with small droplets of the white dragon's blood, and Flash realized that this was the grublin that had tripped him. His eyes widened with horror and terror gripped at his chest when he saw the grublin angle its blade downward, ready to plunge it into its victim's chest and end his short life. He didn't even move to defend himself; he could only stare, petrified by fear, as the grublin prepared to strike.

An earth missile suddenly sped into sight from somewhere above Flash's line of vision and struck the grublin full force right in the chest. The creature gave a strangled gasp of pain as its chest was caved in by the attack and it was launched backward down the street, getting crushed beneath the earth missile and the ground when it landed a dozen metres away. Flash yelped in fear and twisted his body to the side as the grublin's blade fell back to the earth, having slipped from the grublin's grasp when the earth missile hit, and the blade dug into the ground inches from his flank coming dangerously close to puncturing the membrane of his wing.

"Get up!" Claymore ordered frantically, appearing over his fallen brother an instant later and dragging him to his feet. "Come on! We have to keep moving before—"

He was cut off by another excited screech from down the street, and Flash felt his blood turn to ice when he saw a half dozen grublins appear around a bend barely fifty feet away. They didn't hesitate before charging the two young dragons, eager for a kill, and in only seconds they would be upon them.

Suddenly, just as they reached the opening of a side street just short of overtaking their prey the earth surged violently like a massive wave on the ocean, knocking the grublins back and scattering them against the walls of the buildings lining the street. A second later an earth dragoness charged into the intersection from the direction the wave had come, firing out an earth missile that crushed two of the grublins instantly. She was followed a moment later by another, larger earth dragon.

"Run!" she shouted at Flash and Claymore as another wave of grublins appeared farther down the street, rushing to reinforce their fallen comrades. "Get to the shelter!"

Flash and Claymore didn't hesitate to obey, and they turned and sprinted as fast as their legs would carry them as the intersection behind them was overcome by the thunderous sounds of battle. They didn't dare to look back as squeals and roars of pain from both grublins and dragons filled the air before they rounded a bend in the street and the battleground disappeared from sight.

"How much farther?" Flash panted a moment later. In all the panic and confusion he barely knew where he was anymore.

"We're almost there," Claymore replied breathlessly. "A few minutes more..."

Flash jumped as a loud scream erupted from his left, and as they passed a side street he caught a glimpse of a pitched battle raging in a small courtyard on the other side of the line of buildings beside them. A yellow electricity dragoness, who was the source of the scream, was pinned against a wall as three grublins descended on her, bladed weapons raised high, but then the line of buildings once again obscured his vision and prevented him from seeing her fate.

"Why are they doing this?" he demanded in a quivering voice, feelings of terror and despair threatening to overwhelm him at any moment. "Why are they attacking? The war is supposed to be over!"

"You're asking me?" Claymore replied, his own voice laced with tension. "I'm just trying to get us to those shelters! I don't care why they're doing this right now!"

"But what if the elder is right? What if it is our fault?"

"That doesn't matter right now! All I care about right now is getting you to safety!"

Flash winced as another terrible grublin battle cry split the air, and from then on he ran in silence, trying to hold himself together and keep from succumbing to the pure terror that flooded through him and made him want to do nothing more than curl up in some dark corner and break down in a fit of sobbing. No matter where he went he couldn't escape the horrible noise. It was all around them now, indicating that the village had been overrun. How could they hope to survive the night? There were simply too many grublins moving too quickly for the elders to organize any kind of defence against. He realized that they were likely doomed, and he was filled with a dread and fear that he had never experienced before in his life.

It only made matters worse when he kept hearing that earth dragon's words echoing in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to forget.

'_The purple dragon is leading them...'_

But how was that possible? The messengers from Warfang had all insisted that the purple dragon was on their side! Why would he attack their village, and without any provocation? Or could this be a different purple dragon than the one that was reported to have shown up in Warfang? What if this was the Dark Master, returning to reassert his dominance over those that had eluded him for years?

No, Flash realized that couldn't be it. After all, just before succumbing to his injuries and collapsing into unconsciousness, the earth dragon had reported that the purple dragon he had seen was only young...

Finally, the street opened up ahead of them to reveal a long, narrow courtyard stretching across the front of one of the village's largest buildings at the very back of the caverns, beneath which the shelters were located. Six dragons were standing guard over the courtyard, keeping watch for grublins as dozens of panicked dragons flocked toward the open main entrance that would lead them down into the reinforced shelters where they could ride out the attack in safety. Without wasting a second, Flash and Claymore put on a burst of speed and angled toward the doorway, feeling a surge of relief at the thought that they were almost out of danger.

A piercing shriek suddenly echoed across the courtyard, and Flash jumped and cried out in alarm as dozens of grublins suddenly swarmed in from the right side of the courtyard, converging in the guards in a tangle of limbs, clubs, and swords. Two of the guards were overwhelmed in an instant, one of them knocked unconscious by a club to the back of the skull and the other killed brutally. The four remaining guards began fighting back desperately to hold off the grublin attack. Suddenly finding themselves cut off from the shelter, Flash and Claymore skidded to a panicked halt and retreated to the cover of a cluster of buildings on their left, watching in horror as the grublins swept across the courtyard. Up ahead the doors to the shelters began grinding slowly closed, the dragons inside desperate to keep the dark creatures out, and Flash felt a renewed wave of despair and hopelessness crash over him as the doors banged shut, sealed from the inside and virtually impenetrable now.

"What do we do?" he asked weakly, staring at the closed doors.

"I...I don't know," Claymore replied, shaking his head helplessly. "We're locked out."

Flash looked back toward the courtyard and was horrified to see that only two guard dragons remained in the fight, getting forced back northward along the courtyard as the grublins continued to advance. The other two were lying motionlessly by the doors of the shelters, but through the tangle of bodies Flash couldn't tell if they were dead or merely unconscious. Either way, it didn't matter. The courtyard was overrun, and no one was coming to help.

"We have to go," Claymore said quietly, edging back along the wall and trying to keep to the shadows. "Come on, now!"

Flash nodded quickly and followed his brother as he ducked into a narrow alleyway. Squeezing between the tight walls, the two of them eventually emerged in another street that was for the moment clear of grublins and began running as fast as their legs could carry them. They didn't know where they were going. They just wanted to keep ahead of the bulk of the grublin forces until they could find some help.

Claymore gave a sudden grunt as he rounded a corner and inadvertently ran head first into a grublin on the other side. Out of sheer chance he caught the creature with his thick, curved horns, and with a cry of pain the grublin was sent crashing into a nearby wall, falling motionlessly to the ground.

"Look out!" Flash exclaimed when he suddenly caught sight of another grublin rounding on his brother from his left, aiming to catch him on his exposed flank with its blade. Out of instinct and desperation Flash cracked his jaws open and fired out a blazing beam of light, causing the second grublin to crash into the wall right next to the first, burned and unconscious.

"Claymore?" a trembling voice squeaked, and Flash jumped at the sudden sound before spinning around to find Raenna and Gemma huddled in a corner behind them, apparently getting pinned there by the two grublins. It had been Raenna that had spoken, and now she was staring at their two rescuers with wide eyes. "Flash? Where did you come from?"

"Raenna! Gemma!" Claymore exclaimed in shock. "Why are you still out here?"

"We couldn't get to the shelters," Gemma replied fearfully, cautiously edging out from behind the corner and glancing in all directions as if afraid that another grublin might jump out at them at any moment. "We kept getting cut off by grublins. Why aren't you there yet?"

"The shelters are shut off," Claymore replied grimly. "Flash and I almost made it, but then a bunch of grublins attacked the courtyard and the dragons inside sealed the doors."

"You mean we can't get in?" Raenna gasped in horror. "What do we do?"

"I don't know," Claymore said, shaking his head. "Where are your parents?"

"We don't know," Gemma replied mournfully.

"My parents left to help with the fighting once they got me to the central courtyard," Raenna said anxiously. "Gemma's mother was with us a while ago, but when the grublins caught up to us we got separated."

An explosive rumble suddenly reached their ears, and all four of them went rigid with fear as they searched about for the source. Flash thought that it sounded like it was coming from somewhere to the south-west, where the fighting sounded like it was most intense.

"We need to find somewhere safe to hide until this is over," Claymore said tensely. "But where can we go if the shelters are sealed?"

A grim silence descended over the four of them for a long moment, but then Flash noticed Gemma's eyes brighten as if an idea had occurred to her.

"The hideout," she said to Claymore.

Claymore's eyes widened with surprise, but a second later they brightened as well. Flash only knew vaguely of 'the hideout' from the times his brother had mentioned it, but apparently it was a small side cave that Gemma and Claymore had found in the northern wall of the cavern, not too far from the cavern's secondary exit. It was like a secret clubhouse where the young dragons could gather when they wanted to get away from the older dragons in the village. Flash had been invited by his brother a number of times to go there with him, but Flash had always refused knowing that it would only result in an awkward tension between him and Claymore's friends.

"Good idea!" Claymore said. "It should be hidden well enough that no one will find us there, and it's outside the village. Come on, let's go!"

"But that's all the way on the north side of the cavern!" Raenna protested. "We have to cross the entire village to get there!"

"Do you have any better ideas?" Gemma snapped impatiently.

Raenna sighed and looked down at her paws. "No..."

"Let's get moving," Claymore said firmly, and he turned and began cautiously edging down the street to the north, keeping a wary eye out for grublins. Flash followed right behind him, his ears straining to pick out any nearby grublins, but over the general clamour of battle it was nearly impossible to tell how close any of the grublins really were. The only thing he could tell for certain was that the sound of grublin voices was continually growing louder as they spread throughout the village, while the number of cries from dragons was dwindling with every minute.

"Okay, it's clear," Claymore hissed from a corner ahead. "Quickly!"

He dashed around the corner at a sprint, and Flash took off running after him with the two dragonesses right behind him. They weaved their way through the village streets at a frantic pace, drawing ever nearer to the northern edge of the village. Flash could hardly believe their luck when they had made it halfway to their destination without seeing another grublin.

Their luck ended quickly when they arrived at a small garden square and found it filled with dragons and grublins battling desperately, and the four of them slid to a fearful halt and watched in horror as the battle unfolded. Three earth dragons, an electricity dragon and a fire dragon were frantically trying to hold their ground against two dozen grublins, elemental attacks crisscrossing crazily through the space between buildings. At least two of the small flower beds within the square were ablaze from the fire dragon's attacks, and the bodies of grublins littered the ground. Flash could see no dead dragons, to his relief, but a couple of them were clearly injured.

"Kryos!" Claymore exclaimed suddenly.

Flash whipped his gaze around to where his brother was looking and his eyes widened in surprise when he caught sight of the young ice dragon between the legs of one of the earth dragons and the electricity dragon. He hadn't noticed him before because the other dragons were blocking him from view, but now Flash could see with great surprise that Kryos was actually fighting the grublins with them, using blasts of ice to freeze the swarming creatures in place while the larger dragons dispatched them with elemental attacks or swipes of their talons and tails.

The earth dragon roared loudly when a grublin suddenly leapt up onto its back and plunged its blade in between the dragon's shoulder blades. Snarling furiously, the dragon tried to spin around and knock the grublin off but couldn't reach it. Then while he was distracted another grublin charged in and swiped its blade across one of the earth dragon's hind legs, causing the dragon to stumble and fall flat on his side with a winded grunt. Chattering with triumphant glee, the two grublins leapt off of the writing dragon's body and charged the electricity dragon, driving him backward. Within a matter of seconds Kryos was left standing alone and vulnerable. At that moment two airborne grublins dove down toward him.

"We have to help him!" Gemma exclaimed.

"Come on!" Claymore said before charging into the square.

Mustering up whatever courage he could find, Flash ran as fast as he could to catch up to his brother, the two young dragonesses surging ahead of him as well. The grublins in the square seemed to pay no attention to the four of them, deeming them no threat compared to the adult dragons still engaged in the furious battle. Up ahead Flash could see Kryos trying desperately to hold the two flying grublins at bay, breathing out repeated streams of ice to try and bring them down but they were just too quick, dodging every attack he made.

A sudden, sharp scream from his right caused Flash to jump badly and he looked over just in time to see Gemma crash into the earth, tripped up by a flying grublin that had swung its club at her legs. Before she had even slid to a halt the grublin charged.

"Gemma!" Raenna cried.

"Keep going!" Gemma shouted in reply before rolling over onto her back and catching the charging grublin full in the face with an earth blast, knocking it backward through the air.

The three other dragons obeyed and kept running, leaving Gemma to catch up as she scrambled back to her feet. Just at that moment Kryos roared in pain ahead of them as one of the grublins' clubs caught him soundly on the shoulder, the pain causing the limb to buckle and sending him tumbling to the ground.

"Kryos!" Claymore shouted.

A mere instant before the grublins were upon the fallen ice dragon, an earth missile from Claymore slammed into one of them. The grublin gave an abrupt gasp of pain before getting knocked clear out of the air in the blink of an eye. The second paused in surprise, staring at the point in space where its companion had just been, and in this opening an intense fireball from Raenna caught it in the side, exploding on impact and sending the smoking grublin spinning into a wall. On the ground Kryos heaved a sigh of relief and began rolling over to push himself to his feet.

"Look out!" Raenna screamed suddenly.

Kryos looked up and his eyes went wide with horror when a land-bound grublin appeared behind him, bladed weapon raised high to deliver a killing blow. It was obvious in that moment that none of the four dragons rushing to his aid were going to be able to reach him in time, and in his shock and fear he was unable to do anything more than watch.

The grublin shrieked suddenly when a blazing beam of white light consumed it, knocking it backward so quickly it was almost like it just disappeared, driving it into the wall of a low house and killing it instantly. Farther into the square Flash slowly straightened and tried to catch his breath, somewhat surprised that he had been able to hit the grublin so precisely when he had been acting by little more than reflex. Obviously his practice session with Claymore had paid off.

He was suddenly aware that Kryos, Gemma and Raenna were all staring at him with expressions of wide-eyed shock on their faces, and he shifted uncomfortably under their gazes. At that moment however, Claymore moved up beside him with a grin on his muzzle and bumped him roughly on the shoulder with a folded wing.

"Nice shot, little buddy," he said proudly.

"Kryos, are you alright?" Gemma asked concernedly as she approached the ice dragon's side.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he grunted as he pushed himself to his feet, frowning momentarily at the discoloured bruise forming on his shoulder. Then he glanced toward Flash and said almost reluctantly, "Thanks."

"Sure," was all Flash said in reply.

"Can you run?" Claymore asked his friend. "We're heading to the hideout."

"The hideout?" Kryos repeated in surprise. "Not the shelters? My parents told me to go that way."

"The shelters are already sealed off," Claymore said grimly. Then he frowned and glanced around the square, which had begun to fall quiet as the dragons managed to push the attacking grublins back. "Where are your parents?"

"My dad went to help out on the western front when he heard the attack starting," Kryos replied. "And my mom..." He trailed off, and Flash felt a swell of confusion when he thought he saw the glossiness of tears in his eyes. He swallowed with difficulty past a lump in his throat before continuing, "I think she's dead."

"What?" Raenna gasped in a quiet voice.

"We were heading for the shelters when a bunch of grublins caught her from behind," Kryos explained in a tight voice. "She told me to run, and after that I don't know what happened."

His head drooped toward the ground, and beside him Raenna stepped forward slowly and rested a comforting paw on his shoulder. A sudden explosion from somewhere deeper in the city reached their ears and caused them all to jump, though, and they realized that they couldn't linger.

"We have to keep moving," Claymore said, turning northward once more. "Come on, we should be able to make it to the hideout before too much longer."

The others all nodded, and without another word they took off running one again, hoping desperately that they didn't see any more grublins before they reached their destination.

If only they could be so fortunate.

***.*.***

"Hold them back!" an earth dragoness shouted to the other dragon defenders that were gathered around the steps leading up to what looked to be the village's town hall. She nimbly ducked a swing of a flying grublin's club before rearing up and lashing out with her talons, sending the creature spinning away with three deep gashes across its chest and stomach. "Don't let them reach the elders!"

_Good luck with that_, Nexus thought with a chuckle as he stepped out into the courtyard where a pitched battle was raging between several dozen of his grublins and eight dragon defenders. Without even pausing he began striding toward the steps leading up to the building's large stone doorway, which at the moment looked to be sealed tightly shut.

_Not for long._

"He's here," he heard another earth dragon gasp as he approached, and Nexus glanced over at the source to see the speaker standing halfway up the steps and staring in horror at Nexus as he casually walked toward the stairs. "Ancestors, help us, the purple dragon is here!"

"Stand firm!" the earth dragoness snapped, however there was an evident edge of fear in her voice now as well. "Don't let him through!"

The other seven dragons hesitated for a long moment, clearly not at all willing to engage the legendary purple dragon in a one-on-one fight, but as Nexus reached the bottom of the stairs and began climbing unchallenged they were forced to react. Batting away a group of grublins, the nearest two dragons charged him breathing out streams of ice and fire as they came. Without even flinching Nexus ducked the elemental attacks before releasing an enormous charge of electricity from his body, creating a sort of supercharged orb of energy around himself. Electricity arced from the orb to the two dragons, and they screamed in pain as the surge tore through their bodies. A moment later he cut the stream and they both collapsed limply to the ground. Without missing a beat Nexus resumed his journey up the stairs, his dark grin never leaving his muzzle. As he passed the unconscious forms of the dragons he considered just how easy it would be to kill them in that moment, but he dismissed the thought from his mind immediately. After all, what good would it do to instruct his grublins to leave most of the dragons in the village alive if he killed every one that he came up against? A dragon would probably fear him more—or Spyro, he corrected himself, remembering his current form—if they were still alive to feel fear.

"Stop!" the earth dragoness shouted as he made it halfway up the stairs.

Nexus turned to glance at her out of the corner of his eye with an almost bored expression as she knocked a half-dozen grublins away from her with a blast of earth energy before spinning around to face him. With a roar she fired a massive earth missile, the projectile speeding toward him with lethal velocity. Still without flinching, Nexus reached up with a paw that glowed with a green aura from his earth power and, to the utter shock of the dragoness, _caught_ the earth missile before spinning around and hurling it back at its sender. The dragoness had no chance to react before the earth missile smashed into her skull, dropping her unconscious to the ground in an instant with a bleeding wound on the side of her head.

Nexus took a moment to examine his situation and found that only four defenders remained in the fight now. One of the others had been brought down by several of the grublins' blades while Nexus had been occupied with the earth dragoness, and the electricity dragon's bloody body was now slumped in a lifeless heap on the cold stone steps. Then, all together, the grublins surged ahead and surrounded the two remaining dragons farthest away from the building's doors, cutting them off from the rest of the fight in an instant and leaving the remaining two for Nexus. The two dragons, one of the fire element and yet another of earth, quickly moved together to bar access to the doorway, but there was obvious fear in their expressions and Nexus's wicked grin grew wider as he began stalking toward them.

"Do yourselves a favour and just get out of the way now," he laughed as he drew to a halt on the top step a dozen feet from them.

"Never," the earth dragon snapped immediately, and he was able to keep a surprising amount of strength in his voice for the fear that was all too obvious in his eyes.

"We'll never let you get at our elders," the fire dragon added, though in a significantly less confident tone.

Nexus gave an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Have it your way."

Closing his eyes and summoning up all the power he could manage, Nexus reared up onto his hind legs and spread his wings wide. Had his eyes not been closed, he would have probably been extremely pleased to see the looks of horror that settled over the two dragons' faces as dark clouds of convexity began swirling around his body. As his power continued to build he felt himself lift slowly into the air, the convexity that spiralled around him creating a low, ominous rumble that could be felt through the very air around him. Then, opening his eyes and grinning darkly, he unleashed all his built-up power.

The convexity fury attack exploded out of him with terrible force, and because he focussed all of the power forward instead of allowing it to spread out in all directions it was only made more deadly as a result. The two dragon guards' screams were drowned out by the roar of the energy explosion, their bodies crumbling away in an instant from the sheer power that crashed over them. A split second later the heavy stone doors of the town hall were blown inward off their reinforced hinges, splintering and cracking as if they were made of glass. Even the thick walls and stone columns around the doorway cracked and threatened to buckle as they were assaulted by the shockwave of convexity. Then, only a couple of seconds after the attack had begun, silence fell over the area.

Panting slightly from the massive drain on his power, Nexus dropped to the ground and took a couple of long, deep breaths before examining his work, grinning as he already felt his power steadily returning to him. The entrance to the town hall lay open before him, stone debris scattered in every direction. The two guard dragons that the grublins had been holding off were now both unconscious, and not a single soul moved anywhere within sight any longer. The grublins were all staring at Nexus in awe and obvious fear from his display of power, but also with a growing air of eagerness about them. They felt emboldened having someone as powerful as he was on their side, Nexus knew, and now they were excited to see what he would do next.

Dismissing the grublins from his mind, Nexus stepped over the crumbled stone debris at his feet and stepped through the broken doorway of the town hall. Upon entering the building he found himself in a large, open atrium with stone columns running around the outside walls. Two hallways branched off from the back corners of the room while the back wall was dominated by an enormous tapestry upon which a sort of elemental seal was depicted, with a large green symbol for the earth element dominating the centre and the three remaining elements evenly arrayed around it, denoting the same distribution of elemental powers that Nexus had witnessed so far within the village; predominantly earth, with the other three elements comprising significant minorities.

He quickly located the four elder dragons scattered about the open space. One of them, a female earth dragon, was sprawled out on the ground over to his left, obviously knocked unconscious by the blast from his convexity fury. An ice dragon lay over to his right, crushed between one of the stone pillars and a large piece of the heavy stone door that had come flying into the room. It was easy to see that he was dead. A third dragon lay farther into the room. He was a fire dragon, and he was groaning weakly from where he lay on the ground. Obviously he had been farther back from the door when the blast had entered the room, sparing him from the brunt of the shockwave and thereby making it possible for him to maintain consciousness. The fourth and oldest of the dragons, another earth dragon and clearly the leader among them, stood at the very back of the room beneath the elemental banner and was staring at the young purple dragon that had just entered the room with a look of pure shock and horror.

"Knock knock," Nexus chuckled as he advanced farther into the room.

"You," the fire dragon growled weakly as he shakily pushed himself to his feet, a look of unbridled fury in his eyes. "You monstrous, heartless, barbaric little bastard!"

With an enraged roar the elder leapt forward, talons extended and jaws ready to clamp down and rend Nexus limb from limb, but Nexus easily dodged his first swing and countered by swinging his head up sharply and catching the larger dragon soundly under the jaw with his horns. The fire dragon snarled with pain and anger and lashed out again, but his eyes widened in shock when Nexus seemed to disappear right from in front of him. A second later he felt a tremendous impact on his right flank.

Nexus smirked darkly before tapping into his Dragon Time power again and skirting around to his opponent's other side. Releasing his hold on time, he raked his talons across the dragon's shoulder earning a roar of pain from the elder before freezing time again. In this manner the elder stood no chance to retaliate as Nexus seemed to disappear and reappear all around him, delivering blow after crippling blow until, finally, he appeared directly in front of the elder mid-back flip and smashed the spade of his tail into the larger dragon's chin, amplifying the power of his strike with a blast of convexity that knocked the fire dragon into the air. After touching down on the ground Nexus leapt up after him and kicked out viciously with all four feet, once again channelling his convexity power into the attack. His four paws struck the elder in the chest and a violet shockwave erupted from the point of impact, rocketing the larger dragon back into the wall of the atrium. The fire dragon gave a weak groan before crumpling limply into an unconscious heap on the ground. As soon as his paws hit the ground Nexus turned and stalked toward the last elder, who was frozen in place by his fear.

"Why are you doing this?" the earth dragon asked, his voice strained from horror and fear. "Why are you doing this to our village? What have we done to make you attack us like this?"

"Nothing," Nexus replied calmly as he came to a stop several metres away from the elder, far enough away that he was well out of reach of any surprise attack but close enough that the earth dragon felt trapped.

"Then why?"

"Why not?" Nexus replied with a twisted gin.

The elder gaped at him for a moment in absolute horror before exclaiming, "You're insane! We've never done anything to provoke an attack from you, and yet you come here and destroy our homes for no reason? What do you possibly have to gain from this?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Nexus asked. "Now that Malefor's been taken care of, I'm taking over. This world belongs to me now. Consider this attack a demonstration of power."

"A demonstration of power?" the elder demanded incredulously. "You're killing dozens of innocent dragons just to prove a point?"

"Exactly," Nexus grinned. "But you can end it. Submit yourselves to my rule and the attacks will stop. Resist, and you will be crushed without hesitation and without mercy."

"Submit?" the elder spat, his expression twisting almost in the blink of an eye to one of outrage. "We will never submit to the likes of you, who treat terror and death as nothing but a game! We didn't bow to Malefor, and we will certainly never bow to you!"

"I expected as much," Nexus said with a dismissive shrug. "But I'm sure you'll reconsider when you leave this room and see the true state of your precious home. This was nothing more than a warning. If I had truly meant to destroy you, I could have done it in moments."

"Your threats don't scare us. Who do you even think you are?"

"Who am I?" Nexus repeated, feigning shock and pointing with a talon at himself. "I'm Spyro, the purple dragon of legend you old fool! I am the single most powerful dragon in this world! No one can stand against me, especially not a pathetic village of cowards like this one!"

He snorted derisively and turned sharply around, flicking a piece of stone debris away from his feet with the spade of his tail and causing it to bounce off the unconscious form of the fire elder he had just defeated, as if to remind the chief elder of the power he was dealing with.

"If you want to ensure the survival of this village, you will submit to me," he said over his shoulder. "I'll let you consider this offer. Expect me back here in a couple of days for your answer."

Without even waiting for a reply he stepped back out through the crumbled doorway and out of the town hall, leaving the elder earth dragon fuming in his wake. Once outside he spent a moment to survey the village stretched out before him, listening to the cries of grublins and the screams of dragons and taking in the sight of the orange-red glow that now covered the city from several fires scattered about. He grinned broadly as a feeling of unparalleled excitement and triumph rose up within him at the sight and the knowledge that all of this would be blamed on Spyro.

_I can't believe how easy this is!_ he laughed in his mind. _Spyro, you'd better look out, because you are in for one nasty surprise when you get here!_

"Come on," he said to the grublins gathered on the steps that had been awaiting his return from inside the building. "Our work here is done. Spread the word to start falling back."

Several of the grublins nodded sharply and hurried off into the streets to relay his order while the rest formed up around him, following as he descended the steps and strode proudly through the village's ruined streets, revelling in his success.

He only wished he could be there to see it when Spyro arrived.

***.*.***

"Come on, we're almost there!" Claymore exclaimed from up ahead as the buildings around them gradually begin to become smaller and less tightly packed together. "Keep going!"

No one answered him. They only kept running right on his tail, trusting him to guide them on a safe path through the village. Thanks to his earth element, he had been able to steer the group away from most of the grublins still roaming the streets around the outer areas of the village. It seemed as though most of the vile creatures had already pushed deeper into the centre of the village, leaving only a few small groups behind to mop up any dragon stragglers. It was considerably more difficult to avoid the airborne grublins, but like their land-bound counterparts there were very few of them around this area anymore, and by keeping close to building walls and dodging through alleyways the group of five young dragons was able to avoid detection.

"I can't believe that this is happening," Raenna whimpered as they ran. "I never thought the grublins would actually attack here."

"Me neither," Gemma replied grimly. "But obviously we were wrong."

Neither Kryos nor Flash had anything to add, and they remained silent. Kryos was obviously still struggling with the disappearance of his mother, and even though he bore no liking of the ice dragon Flash felt a small pang of sadness for him. He couldn't begin to imagine what kind of fear and pain he was experiencing in that moment.

"Stop, stop!" Claymore hissed suddenly from ahead as they reached the end of an alleyway.

Flash skidded to a halt and barely avoided running into the back of his brother, getting jostled about as Raenna, Gemma and Kryos slid to a stop as well.

"What is it?" Raenna hissed.

"Grublins," Gemma replied before Claymore could, and Flash glanced back at her to see the same tight expression of focus that he saw so often on his brother when he was using his earth powers to sense the movements of others through the ground.

"Two of them," Claymore nodded. "And they're coming this way."

"What do we do?" Flash asked nervously. "Double back?"

Claymore shook his head immediately. "There are more grublins in the street behind us now. They'll see us. We're going to have to take these two out without attracting any more attention."

"And how are we going to do that?" Gemma asked sceptically.

Claymore paused in thought for a moment, his expression tight, before his eyes brightened with an idea. He glanced back over his shoulder.

"Think you can get them, Kryos?"

Flash looked back at the ice dragon to see him with a thoughtful look on his features. Finally he gave a tense sigh.

"I can try."

"Okay, get up here. They're getting closer."

Flash pressed his body as tightly as he could against the side of the alley to make room for Kryos to squeeze by, and a moment later the ice dragon had managed to wriggle his way up to the front of the group. Claymore moved back to give him some more room, and Kryos crouched down low to the ground, readying his attack. Flash could now hear the two grublins approaching, their feet shuffling quietly in the dusty street and drawing nearer with each passing second.

As soon as the first of the grublins came into sight beyond the end of the alley, Kryos leapt up and breathed out a thick cloud of freezing ice particles. The cloud swept over the first grublin and froze it solid in an instant, but somehow the second grublin managed to dodge the attack at the last possible moment, suffering no more than a bad case of frostbite on one of its shoulders. Immediately it sounded the alarm, shrieking at the top of its lungs.

Claymore leapt forward and silenced the small creature an instant later with an earth missile, but it was already too late. Over the rooftops Flash could hear a number of exclamations from other grublins in the area, rushing to investigate the commotion.

"Move!" Claymore exclaimed, and together the five dragons took off running as fast as they could manage toward the northern edge of the village, desperate to reach their destination before they were discovered. As they ran, Flash dared to glance over his shoulder and felt his chest constrict with dread when he caught a brief glimpse of grublins surging through the streets behind them and far to their right, gaining rapidly.

"They're coming!" he cried.

"Don't stop!" Claymore said insistently. "We're almost there!"

They ran faster, hoping to reach the hideout before they were spotted, but only a minute later they were forced to dodge into an alleyway as a group of grublins appeared ahead of them, somehow managing to circle around and get ahead of the dragons. They remained unspotted, but as time wore on more and more groups of grublins began appearing ahead, cutting them off. In the end, just before they cleared the edge of the village, a trio of grublins ran into the street directly in their path, cutting off the dragons' only escape and causing them to slide to a panicked halt. By some impossible stroke of luck they were facing the wrong way and so hadn't seen the dragons yet, but it was only a matter of time. Claymore searched about desperately for a means of escape and saw an alley on their right an instant later.

"In here!" he hissed, and the four other dragons wasted no time in following him into the alley, managing to duck out of sight just before the grublins were able to spot them. However, if they thought their luck was improving, they were wrong.

"It's a dead end!" Raenna wailed as they came to an abrupt halt, their path blocked by a high, thick stone wall between two houses, cutting off their only escape.

"What do we do?" Gemma asked frantically. "We can't fly out or they'll see us!"

"I...I don't know," Claymore said, sounding helpless, and the tone of his voice only multiplied Flash's fear.

The sound of grublin feet scraping against the ground just beyond the open end of the alley echoed down between the walls of the houses to the group, and immediately they all spun around and held their breaths in terror. Out in the street Flash could hear the grublins drawing nearer, chattering to each other in confused tones of voice as they apparently searched for the dragons that had evaded them. By the sounds of it they were almost upon the alley entrance, and when that happened it would be all over. His entire body was trembling with terror, and he could hear Raenna whimpering silently from her own fear as Gemma tried to comfort her with no success. Then, a dim shadow appeared outside the alleyway.

At that exact moment Flash suddenly recalled the day, weeks ago, that he had been trying to escape getting caught by Claymore and his friends while they played, and without even thinking he closed his eyes tight and focussed on his light power with all his might. At the same time he heard movement at the end of the alley and cringed, fearing that he was too late. Raenna gave a muffled squeak of fear and Flash knew that the grublins had just reached the alley. Despair surged through him as he realized that it was over, and he tensed as he waited for a grublin blade or arrow to plunge into his body.

The pain never came, and in confusion Flash slowly cracked one eye open. There, just a dozen metres ahead of them, two grublins were standing just beyond the mouth of the dark alleyway and staring into it curiously, but they gave no indication of having seen the dragons within. When they turned slowly away a moment later Flash gave a silent sigh of relief, thanking the Ancestors that they hadn't been seen.

"What...?" Kryos whispered a moment later once the grublins had turned their backs. "What happened?"

"Flash?" Claymore hissed inquisitively.

Flash nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak in case it broke his focus. It was straining him beyond imagining to conceal all five of them at once, and he knew that any slip-up now could be disastrous.

Kryos gave a tense sigh. "Man, I am never making fun of your powers again."

"Shh!" Gemma hissed.

Fortunately, it seemed as though the grublins hadn't heard him. They remained standing there out in the street, looking around with confusion clear in their body language.

"They're not leaving," Raenna whispered fearfully.

Flash felt his heart falling when he realized that she was right. The two grublins were no longer the only ones standing outside the alley. They had been joined by several more, and now they stood there scratching their heads and conversing in their strange, guttural language as they tried to figure out where their quarries had gone. As the seconds ticked slowly by, Flash could feel himself weakening at an ever-increasing rate. His limbs were beginning to shake, his breathing coming in unsteady gasps.

"Flash?" Claymore whispered worriedly when he noticed his brother's trouble. "What is it?"

"I can't hold this much longer," he replied, keeping his shaking voice as low as possible. The drain on his energy that was required to cover such a large area with his power was far greater than he had imagined it would be. "If they don't leave soon..."

A grim silence fell over the others as they all realized the implications of his words. Flash grit his fangs and tried with all his might to keep his rapid breathing silent, praying that the grublins would just leave and allow him to relinquish his control over the light around them.

_Come on!_ he shouted in his mind. _Just move! We're not here, already!_

But they didn't move. Flash couldn't believe that they were lingering so long. Wasn't it an obvious choice? If they couldn't see the dragons they had been chasing in the area, why didn't they just move on? What was so difficult? The shaking in his body was growing more intense with each passing second, and he was aware of his brother's concerned eyes.

"I have an idea," Claymore whispered suddenly.

Flash glanced back curiously and was thoroughly confused when he saw his brother turn around and rear up on his hind legs, reaching up with his forepaws and finding grips with his talons on the wall of the house next to them.

"What are you doing?" Kryos hissed.

But Claymore didn't answer. Instead he pulled up slightly with his forelegs, testing his grip on the wall.

"Okay, when it's clear, run to the hideout," he grunted, glancing back at his friends for only the briefest of moments. "Run as fast as you can."

"What are you talking about?" Flash demanded in a hushed voice.

Again Claymore didn't answer. He turned his head to meet his brother's gaze, and something in his eyes immediately made Flash anxious. They looked...sad?

All at once it hit him what his brother was planning, and horror crashed over him. He shook his head insistently, his eyes wide with fear.

"No," he gasped. "No, Clay, don't!"

"Sorry," the earth dragon whispered before hoisting himself up with his forelegs and climbing the wall as quickly and silently as he could.

"Claymore!"

But it was too late. Only a second later he had disappeared over the lip of the house's roof. There was a moment of utter silence in which Flash felt a horrible sense of helplessness surging through him.

_He wouldn't actually...would he?_

"Hey you dirty slimeballs!" Claymore's voice suddenly called out from out of sight on the roof of the house, close to the road. "Looking for someone?"

The grublins outside the alley all spun around at once and glared up at the earth dragon peering at them over the wall of the house.

"Come and get me, maggots!"

Claymore fired an earth missile down into the midst of the grublins before jumping down into the street and taking off running northward. With a furious shriek the grublins all charged after him without a second thought, leaving the street ahead completely clear a moment later. As the sounds of the pursuit faded away into the distance, headed toward the northern exit of the caverns, Flash felt a wave of despair sweep through him, rooting him to the spot as he stared out after his brother. None of the other three dragons uttered a sound, just as overcome by shock as Flash was.

"Don't let him escape!" an unknown voice shouted suddenly, causing the four of them to jump badly and huddle back into the alley as far as they could go. "Stop him before he can alert anyone of this!"

Flash felt his eyes go as wide as saucers when a figure appeared outside of the alley, glaring in the direction that Claymore and the grublins had gone. He was a dragon, with golden wings, underbelly and horns, but far more surprising than anything was the colour of his scales.

_The purple dragon_, Flash thought with a swell of horror.

To the amazement of the young white dragon, he realized that this purple dragon was barely any older than he was; a year or two at the most. The report he had heard earlier that night of a purple dragon had said he was young, but it had never really fully hit him until actually seeing him. What was a dragon this young doing leading an army of grublins in an attack against their village?

At that moment, he heard a gasp of pure shock from right beside him.

"How—" Kryos began in a disbelieving tone, but suddenly he found Flash's forepaw clapped over his muzzle.

_Please let him not have heard that!_ Flash begged inwardly.

To his horror, the purple dragon's head suddenly snapped around toward the alley, his light violet eyes boring into the shadows right at the group of terrified young dragons. For a long, tense minute everything was completely still, but at length Flash realized that they must not have been spotted because the purple dragon's eyes were sweeping slowly along the alley, a puzzled look in his expression. Quickly Flash glanced toward the other three dragons.

'Not a sound,' he mouthed, and they all nodded quickly.

A moment later a grublin appeared behind the purple dragon, appearing quite anxious in the young dragon's presence, and finally the purple dragon pulled his gaze away from the alley and glanced toward the small creature.

"Continue spreading the order to fall back," he instructed. "Head for the main exit of the cavern. We have no reason to stay here any longer."

The grublin nodded vigorously before turning and running out of sight as fast as its legs would carry it. Then, after shooting one last suspicious glance toward the alley, the purple dragon turned and disappeared down the street in the direction from which he'd come. After that there was only silence. Flash gasped heavily and allowed the light around them to resume its normal course, swaying weakly on his feet and feeling like he might topple over at any moment.

"Come on," Gemma said in a weak voice once they were sure the coast was clear. "The hideout's close."

Raenna and Kryos nodded silently, but Flash hardly heard her. He was still staring out into the street in the direction Claymore had disappeared, scarcely able to believe that he had actually done what he had.

_Why would he do that?_ he demanded inwardly.

"Flash, come on," Gemma urged him, appearing by his side and pulling him forward with a forepaw. "We have to go now."

Finally Flash gave a weak nod and followed as the three other dragons began creeping toward the street. Once they were sure it was clear they took off running northward, and within a couple of minutes they had reached the cavern wall near the back corner of the cave and had approached a strange nook in the rocky surface. Gemma stepped forward and placed a paw against the uneven surface, and a moment later a crack formed in the rock and spread to reveal an opening. Quickly the four young dragons squeezed through, and once they were all inside Gemma turned and sealed the opening again, plunging them into near total darkness save for the dim light that filtered through a small crack in the wall of the tight space. Flash immediately moved toward it, as if drawn by the light. Exhausted, he sank to the ground and curled up into a tight ball.

"The purple dragon," Raenna muttered, her gaze distant. "I can't believe it..."

"Traitor," Kryos grumbled bitterly. "Leading the grublins against us. It's the Dark Master all over again."

Gemma gave the ice dragon a tense glance before pushing past him and disappearing into a back corner of their secret hideout. A moment later she reappeared holding a small fragment of glowing green spirit gem in her paw.

"Here," she said, pushing the gem piece toward Flash.

"What?" Kryos exclaimed. "You're giving him some of our stash?"

"Yes!" Gemma shot back, setting the gem down by Flash's side and turning to glare at Kryos. "Look at him! He's exhausted, and it's thanks to him that we're probably even alive right now."

"But it's his fault that this happened at all!"

Everything fell silent in the hideout immediately, and Flash looked up at the ice dragon with a feeling of deep shock and hurt. Kryos merely glared back at him.

"Those grublins found us because you had to go and make Claymore take you outside because you couldn't handle your element. Because of you our home is destroyed, my mother is probably dead, and now my best friend might be too!"

"Your best friend who is also his brother!" Gemma snapped. "You think you're the only one that feels scared and hurt right now? We all are! So just leave him be!"

Kryos snorted bitterly and spun around, moving deeper into the dark space and around a corner out of sight. Gemma heaved a sigh and glanced toward Flash, who had curled up tighter on the floor and was looking out through the crack in the wall at the village below, illuminated by a flat orange glow as whole sections of it lay crumbled and burning with grublins still swarming through it. His home, destroyed.

"Hey, I'm sure he made it out," she told him, trying to sound comforting, but Flash could easily detect the strain and hopelessness behind her words. "He'll be fine."

Flash didn't answer, instead turning away more and shutting his eyes tightly, trying to fight back the first sting of tears in his eyes. He heard Gemma sigh sadly and turn away, but he hardly noticed. He didn't even move to use the gem piece she had given him. Without his brother there with them he felt like his heart had been ripped out of him, and he almost wished that the darkness would just swallow him up and take him away from all his pain, away from everyone and everything. With his home burning and his brother gone, he felt more helpless than he had felt at any time before in his life. He stifled a weak whimper, feeling a single tear spill down his cheek.

He was alone.

* * *

><p><strong>You just know that I had to end a giant fight scene with a bit of heartbreak. What kind of writer would I be if I didn't pull an evil stunt like that? X)<strong>

**Hope you liked it. If you did, let me know! And if you didn't, let me know why. Feedback is a writer's greatest tool.**

**So what does Nexus have up his sleeve next? What of Claymore's fate? Find out in the chapters to come...**


	14. Chapter 13

**Do any of you readers who are also writers on this site know that feeling where, after writing a big action scene, the next chapter feels very boring while writing it? Yeah, I hate that...**

**Anyway, I hope this chapter didn't actually turn out boring, but you know how it is. After action, you have to get back to development. Hope you like it anyway.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 13:<span>_

"Ah, good. I see everyone is already here."

Spyro looked up when he heard Terrador's deep baritone voice cut through the relative stillness of the morning to see the earth guardian, along with Cyril, Volteer, and Sirius, approaching down Warfang's main street that led up to the large northern gate. The small group drew to a halt and Terrador spent a moment in silence examining the group of travellers as they readied themselves to depart the city.

"All our preparations are finished," Hunter announced, stepping forward to address the guardians. He was dressed in the same red traveller's cloak that he had been wearing when Spyro had first met him in the catacombs of the Well of Souls, with a small travel pack slung over his shoulder and his falcon perched on his forearm. "We are ready to set off whenever you say."

"Good," Terrador said again in an approving tone, nodding his head. "I knew that we could count on all of you to be ready on time. And you all still feel comfortable taking on this assignment?"

Spyro nodded his head, then glanced around to see the responses of everyone else present. Cynder nodded her head straight away as well, as did Hunter. Beside the cheetah, Faren hesitated for only a moment before nodding her head as well, though the movement was considerably less confident than those of the other dragons her age and Hunter. She glanced toward Sirius quickly, who offered a reassuring smile despite the deep concern that still registered in his expression.

"Hey, why should we feel uncomfortable, right?" Sparx said sarcastically. "It's not like we're all heading out into grublin territory or anything. Oh, wait..."

"Sparx..." Spyro said in a tired tone. The dragonfly had kept him up most of the previous night complaining about having to leave the city. As he put it, they were important enough that they should have someone to do their work for them by this point. Spyro, however, found that he was a bit excited about the idea of venturing out into the unknown again. He enjoyed living in Warfang, certainly, but after a couple of weeks within its walls he was eager to explore more of the lands outside the city that he had never seen before.

"Alright, then I suppose this is goodbye for now," Terrador declared. "Travel safely, and remember that your mission is only to gather information. If you find yourselves in danger I want you to return here to Warfang so that we can return to the settlements in force. Understood?"

The dragons, cheetah and dragonfly all nodded their heads.

"Hey, running away from danger is what I do best," Sparx quipped. "Unless, you know, Spyro happens to be running toward it."

"Then I guess it's a good thing you don't have to worry about that on this trip, huh?" Cynder smirked.

"You got that right. You hear that, Spyro? Don't go getting yourself into trouble, because I won't be there to bail you out."

"How will I survive?" Spyro laughed. "I don't feel nearly as safe with Demetrius looking out for me as with you."

He glanced over his shoulder at the earth dragon that was standing just off to the side of the group, waiting patiently for the time to come to depart, and the earth dragon gave a very small grin at the corner of his mouth past his otherwise extremely professional manner. He was a young adult dragon, just barely reaching his prime like Sirius, and he was in the middle of advanced training to become a member of the Warfang City Guard. Terrador had assigned him to accompany Spyro during this journey, and while the purple dragon had felt a little slighted at first, like the guardians didn't trust him, he had to admit that he was probably going to appreciate the company. He'd only met Demetrius that morning, but he seemed to be a very level-headed and kind-hearted dragon. At the moment he was wearing a set of light scout's armour, coloured a dull bronze that didn't shine to make him harder to spot from a distance.

"Good luck on your journeys, young ones," Cyril told them.

"And the best of luck in learning all you can about the state of these settlements," Volteer added quickly.

"Whenever you are ready," Terrador said lastly, gesturing with his wing toward the gates, and as if it were a cue the massive stone gates began grinding slowly open revealing the flat, expansive plains on the other side to the north of the city. "Be safe."

"We will," Spyro assured the guardian.

All together, the travellers turned about and slowly marched out through the gate. As he left the high walls of the city behind him, Spyro felt a swell of excitement but also wariness inside him. He was now travelling off into the unknown, without the safety of the city around him. What adventures awaited him this time?

"Good luck to the both of you," Hunter said once the gates had swung closed behind them, waving with a paw at Spyro and Cynder. "Safe travels."

"You too Hunter," Cynder replied with a smile.

"And you Faren," Spyro added.

Hunter nodded, smiling easily, and Faren offered a small, "Thank you."

Sparx fluttered quickly over to his brother and for a moment just hovered there in front of his snout before suddenly darting forward and hugging the purple dragon on the side of his neck.

"You'd better not let anything happen to you," Sparx told him sternly. "If I go all the way back to the swamp and tell Mom and Dad that you're alright only to come back here and find out that I lied, I will kill you."

Spyro laughed. "Alright, Sparx. I'll do my best." Then his expression softened, a hint of longing appearing in his eyes. "Tell them I said hi. I miss them."

"You bet," Sparx nodded, patting his brother on the horn and giving a comforting smile. "And don't worry; I'll play up the stories so that they can know how big of a legend their son is now."

Spyro laughed again. "Just don't say anything too crazy."

"Oh, pfft, of course not," Sparx snorted, waving a hand. "I mean, it's not like you single-handedly pulled the entire world back together or anything insane like that. Come on, that's just over the top."

Spyro grinned. "Goodbye, Sparx."

"See ya soon, big boy."

With that the dragonfly zipped back over to Hunter and Faren who were waiting patiently for him to finish his farewell. Then, once he had joined them, the three of them turned away and began their trek eastward. Sparx was accompanying the other two because their destinations were close enough together that for the first day they could both follow the same path before splitting up on the second morning. The trio gradually picked up speed until eventually they were speeding away from the city at a rapid clip, Hunter running as only a cheetah could and Sparx and Faren flying along just above his head, Hunter's falcon soaring off to scout out the way ahead.

As they faded into the distance, Spyro at last turned to face Cynder who was already watching him with a look of reluctance in her eyes.

"Promise me you'll be careful," she said as she slowly stepped closer to him, gazing straight into his eyes with a firm intensity.

"I will," Spyro nodded, smiling reassuringly. "And you too."

"Oh, please," she snorted. "If I see any grublins, what chance do you really think they have?" But then her smile softened, and she nodded. "I promise."

Spyro's smile grew wider, feeling at least a small sense of reassurance from her words even despite the worry and reluctance that still plagued him. Then she quickly moved forward and nuzzled him affectionately against his neck and chin before surprising him by pressing her muzzle against his in a brief kiss. When she broke away, as impossible as it seemed, he felt his heart flutter with joy at the same time as it fell with sadness with the knowledge that their parting was imminent.

He quickly shifted his gaze to the left toward an ice dragon that stood a few feet away, waiting patiently and pretending not to watch the two. He was the same age as Demetrius was, and carried a similar assignment. Like Demetrius, he was in training to become a member of the City Guard, and he had been assigned by the guardians to accompany Cynder just as Demetrius would be following Spyro.

"Look after her," he said to the ice dragon in a tone that clearly said he was serious.

The ice dragon nodded sharply. "I will. You have my word."

Spyro nodded thankfully before turning to look at Cynder one last time.

"I'll see you soon," he promised.

"Don't keep me waiting," she replied with a wry grin before turning and spreading her bright magenta wings wide. With a single flap she was airborne and racing off into the sky, the ice dragon flying just off her left wingtip. Soon they were nothing more than a pair of distant specs in the overcast sky against the grey background of clouds. Almost immediately Spyro felt a pang of loneliness within him and he knew that the end of this voyage couldn't come soon enough.

"Sir?" Demetrius said from behind him, and Spyro turned around to see the earth dragon watching him.

Spyro sighed. "Alright, let's go."

Demetrius nodded and opened his wings, waiting for Spyro to take the lead. Spyro did so, leaping into the air and angling himself to the west, hearing the larger earth dragon flapping up into the sky right behind him. Then, together, the two of them rapidly climbed high into the sky until they were just below cloud level, soaring over the land and leaving Warfang behind them, the massive city gradually shrinking until it was little more than a smudge in the distance.

By the time the day was up, the two dragons had passed the Valley of Avalar and had turned north into the mountain range. They stopped to rest there for that night, finding a sheltered cave halfway up one of the mountains without too much difficulty before descending into the valley to hunt. All this was done in relative silence. Spyro learned quickly that Demetrius was of the very silent type, but even so his presence helped to dispel the loneliness that clung to Spyro's heart. This was the first time that he could remember in his life that he didn't have either Sparx or Cynder with him, and without either of their familiar presences he felt almost lost.

_I wish the guardians could have let us travel together_, he thought wistfully. _It's not the same without her here_.

His unease and loneliness remained with him as the sky continued to darken and kept him awake long after Demetrius succumbed to sleep. Restlessly, the young purple dragon tossed and turned just within the mouth of the small cave as the earth dragon's soft, steady snores suffused the air with their peaceful rhythm. Spyro wished that he could feel as relaxed as his companion sounded, but it seemed as though this would be impossible for him to attain. He had never felt this way before, but now that Cynder was gone he felt empty.

Finally his weariness overpowered his unrest, and before he knew it Spyro found himself slipping into the realms of dreams. Unfortunately, it seemed as though he was unable to escape his anxious thoughts even there...

_Spyro found himself surrounded by nothing but darkness. No matter where he looked there was only emptiness. The only thing he could see was himself, but even the light that revealed him seemed somehow wrong. It illuminated only him and absolutely nothing else, not even the ground that he could feel beneath his paws, and the light had a strange flat quality about it, as if it was illuminating him from every direction at once. The light bore a deep orange tinge as well, and as Spyro looked over himself he noticed that it flickered inexplicably._

_At that moment a sound reached him through the empty void, and he immediately snapped his head up and whirled to face the source. It came again a moment later, and this time Spyro was able to distinguish it as the sound of a clawed paw brushing against the stony ground. It was barely louder than a whisper, but against the absolute silence that reigned within the void it stood out like a scream and seemed to echo in Spyro's ears. Steadily the sounds approached him, as if some unseen figure was stalking toward him._

"_Who's there?" he called out in a frightened voice, squinting into the blackness and trying to pierce it with his gaze but having no success. "Show yourself!"_

_As if in response to his words a dull glow suddenly grew out of the shadows ahead of him, appearing as though it was from a great distance. It had the same orange, flickering quality as the light that illuminated Spyro's body, and very slowly it began to expand around him, creating a sort of horizon that enclosed him on all sides but that still left the intervening space completely unlit. However this fact mattered little to Spyro now, because what the glow allowed him to make out was a silhouetted figure ahead of him, slowly drawing nearer. He easily recognized the shape to be that of a dragon about his age. Then, as the distant glow continued to grow in strength, the figure was slowly revealed._

"_No one is here but you," a cold, mocking voice echoed from across the dark void, coming from the figure, and Spyro immediately cringed in surprise and dread at the sound because he recognized it immediately._

_The voice was his._

_The figure drew to a halt a few metres away from Spyro, and at the same time the glow illuminated his body enough for Spyro to make him out clearly. He felt a strange swell of horror when he realized that, just like the voice, the form that he was seeing was his._

"_Who are you?" Spyro asked challengingly, though his fear showed easily in his voice anyway._

"_You," the other dragon replied simply with a chuckle and a twisted grin on his features. "But at the same time not you. I suppose you could say that I'm basically you as you were meant to be."_

_While Spyro heard the dragon speaking in his own voice, at the same time there was a quality about the voice that he didn't recognize. It contained a tone of mocking superiority to it that Spyro knew that he had never used in his life, and that simple tone was enough to turn his normally gentle voice into something terrifying._

_The glow around the two identical purple dragons was continuing to grow in strength, and while his attention was fixed on his mysterious double Spyro still noticed that the glow was starting to look strangely like fire. Dim shapes could now be made out against the flickering background light, but they were still too faint to begin to guess what they might be._

"_What are you doing here?" Spyro demanded. "What do you want with me?"_

"_You'll find out soon," the other Spyro laughed, the dark lopsided grin still on his muzzle and a glint of sinister amusement in his eyes. Spyro cringed as he looked into those eyes, because they seemed to be his and at the same time not his. The light within them contained a sadistic edge that Spyro had never pictured on himself, and for just a moment Spyro frowned when he thought he saw a tint of red to the otherwise purple colouring._

"_Whatever you want with me, you should know that I'll fight you," Spyro said, growing more unsettled by the moment. He could feel his limbs beginning to shake slightly from nervous energy, his battle instincts beginning to kick in and making it extremely difficult to remain still. "Whatever you're planning, I'll resist!"_

"_Of course you will," his twin chuckled dismissively. "But it doesn't matter. It's too late."_

_The distant glow surged in intensity without warning, and Spyro flinched and shielded his eyes with a wing, blinking to try and clear his vision. Squinting against the painful light, Spyro looked out past his wing and felt his breath catch in horror when he saw his new surroundings. There now was no mistaking that the light was from fire, for it now raged all around him. The indistinct shapes he had noticed were that of crumbled buildings, and the stone he had felt beneath his paws was revealed now to be some sort of courtyard. It was a city, and it was burning._

"_What's going on?" he wondered aloud fearfully, spinning around to take in his surroundings while his double simply stood there gazing at him with that malicious smile._

_A sudden sound behind him caught his attention, and Spyro slowly turned around to see that he and his doppelganger were no longer alone. He felt his chest constrict with pure horror when he laid eyes on the slim black figure that was stalking toward him with an air of cold purpose about its steps, its eyes blazing a bright crimson that sent a horrible shiver of fear down the length of Spyro's spine._

"_C-Cynder?" he stammered weakly._

_The dragoness didn't respond. Instead she continued advancing until finally drawing to a halt barely two feet away from him. Then, with a snarl of what could only be described as loathing on her face, she twisted her body and brought the blade of her tail up high._

"_What?" Spyro gasped when he realized what was about to happen. "No, Cynder, wait! It's me!"_

_With a shrill roar of bitter fury, the black dragoness plunged her tail blade forward._

Spyro awoke and gave a strangled gasp of terror as he bolted upright in the dark cave, clutching at his chest with a forepaw and panting feverishly as the sharp, piercing pain slowly faded away. He was trembling violently, a horrible chill running through his body. He could have sworn that he could actually feel the dragoness's vicious blade sinking through his scales.

Thoroughly confused and frightened by the dream, Spyro slowly sank back down onto the floor of the cavern but didn't close his eyes, feeling too disturbed and unsettled by what he had seen to even consider sleeping at that moment. He knew in his heart that Cynder would never try to harm him like that, but the image of her with that expression of rage and disgust on her face as she delivered her killing strike was enough to fill him with terror.

And all the while, he was aware of an unwelcome pressure at the back of his mind, pressing against his consciousness and chilling him to the core of his being with its malevolent touch.

***.*.***

"Ugh! Hunter, how much farther are we going today? My wings feel like they're going to fall off!"

Hunter sighed and rolled his eyes at the sound of Sparx's plaintive voice, but inside he had to admit that he couldn't blame him for complaining. Their pace that day had been relentless, and they had covered a considerable distance since leaving Warfang that morning. He wouldn't admit it, but he was growing extremely weary as well. He hadn't run like this since the later years of the war against Malefor when he'd had to regularly cross through enemy territory in his search for Spyro and Cynder. Perhaps Sparx was right; maybe they should find somewhere to spend the night. No sooner had he come to this conclusion than a sheltered grove of trees came into view ahead, and Hunter immediately began slowing his pace.

"That looks like a good place to camp for tonight," he called out. "We will rest here."

"Really?" Sparx exclaimed. "Oh, finally!"

As Hunter had expected, the group of three travellers were quickly able to find a sheltered clearing within the grove and they eagerly settled in to rest. Hunter moved over to the thick trunk of a nearby tree and sat down leaning against it, gratefully setting down his small travelling pack and bow by his side before stretching out his legs. His falcon companion, which had been flying high overhead as they travelled, made a low pass over the clearing before disappearing into the trees in search of a meal. Nearby Faren flopped down on her belly with a weary groan and stretched out flat on the ground, her wings sagging limply at her sides.

"And I thought I was tired," Sparx chuckled weakly, and Hunter glanced upward to see the dragonfly reclining heavily in the crook of a tree branch directly above him. "Are you alright over there?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," Faren replied breathlessly. "I'm just not used to flying so long."

"Then how did you and your brother get to Warfang?" Sparx asked sceptically.

"We took three days."

"Well, if what you have already told me is correct we should be a little more than halfway there," Hunter said, rubbing one of his legs to relieve some of the tension in it. "Tomorrow should go easier, then."

Faren nodded quickly before laying her head down in the grass once again, letting out a long, tired breath. A moment passed in silence before Hunter pushed himself back to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Sparx asked.

"It will be dark soon," the cheetah explained, gesturing at the darkening horizon. "I'll be back soon with wood for a fire."

With that he turned and slipped silently into the trees in search of firewood. To his mild annoyance he found that there seemed to be very little in the way of useable wood in the small grove, but he wasn't in any kind of a rush that evening. The simple task of searching through the trees gave him an opportunity to relax his body and mind after the day's long journey, and he had always been one to enjoy the simpler work involved in surviving in the wilds. Whether it was gathering wood, foraging for herbs or food, or even hunting, it was at times such as these that Hunter felt the most at home, and now he was truly enjoying the chance to live off the land for a short while. Of course his stay in Warfang had been comfortable—the guardians had made certain of that, for which the cheetah was grateful—but big cities, no matter how magnificent, had never been Hunter's area of comfort. He preferred his small, simple village in Avalar or no village at all, surviving simply by what the land had to offer and by being self-sufficient.

He had been gone nearly an hour before he finally returned to the trio's makeshift camp with a bundle of dried wood in his arms. It looked as if Sparx and Faren hadn't moved at all during the time that he had been gone, though Hunter did notice that while he was reclining in the exact same position he had been in before, Sparx was now nibbling lazily on a small butterfly that had mysteriously appeared in his tiny hand. Faren, meanwhile, was still lying on the other side of the clearing with her head resting heavily on top of her crossed forepaws. However she looked up when she heard the cheetah approaching.

"That took you a while," Sparx remarked from his perch in the tree. "Had a tough time catching those tricky sticks, did you?"

"Indeed," Hunter chuckled.

"Well, at least you're back now. It's starting to get cold out here."

"I'll have this fire up in only a moment," Hunter assured him.

True to his word, Hunter had the wood arranged in the centre of the clearing in only a couple of minutes, using the larger pieces of wood to construct a compact frame before filling the centre with kindling and tinder. Then he withdrew a hunk of flint from his pack before kneeling down beside the pile of wood and pulling out the dagger from his belt. Of course Faren could have easily lit the fire with her fire breath, but Hunter felt that it would be wrong to take advantage of her abilities when she was this tired, and he had the fire lit within seconds regardless. Soon a healthy blaze was burning in the centre of the clearing and the three travellers savoured the comforting glow and the warmth of the flames. Faren especially seemed drawn to the fire, and within moments of it being lit she had shifted over until she was barely a metre from the blaze, sighing contentedly as she lay with her back and right flank soaking up the heat. Hunter chuckled to himself. Clearly fire dragons liked their warmth.

It was too dark out to hunt easily by that point, so instead Hunter rooted about in his pack before withdrawing a cloth bundle and unwrapping a hunk of smoked meat that the moles had prepared the morning of their depart. He hadn't been planning on using it except for an emergency, but after a long day of running and flying he felt it was reasonable for them to have a proper meal even if they couldn't hunt. Within two minutes he had two pieces of meat cut and skewered before he sat down easily by the fire's side and warmed the meat over the flames. As the meal gained heat Hunter directed his gaze upward to watch the few stars that were visible through the cover of clouds overhead, enjoying the complete silence.

It was at that moment, however, that he realized that the silence _wasn't_ complete. His ears twitched as a soft sound reached them, and confused Hunter began searching about for the source. It took him several seconds to determine what he was hearing, but finally he realized what it was.

Humming.

It was so quiet that Hunter doubted many other people would have heard it, but his hearing was sharper than that of most others. Intrigued by the sound, Hunter looked over to the other side of the fire pit to realize that Faren was the source. She was still lying beside the fire with her head rested on top of her forepaws, gazing out into the woods with a faraway look in her green eyes. He spent a moment in silence just listening, and he found that the tune she was humming had a soft and soothing air about it, but he also detected a melancholy edge to her voice.

"What song is that?" he asked at length.

Faren gave a small gasp of surprise and jerked her head up to look at him, a deeply startled look in her wide eyes that was quickly replaced by embarrassment. She quickly averted her gaze, pawing at the ground uncomfortably.

"It's...something my mother sang to me when I-I was hatchling," she said finally in a small voice without meeting the cheetah's gaze. "She would sing it whenever I was sad, or scared. I don't remember any of the words anymore, just the tune, but I still sing it sometimes..."

Hunter nodded with a small grunt of understanding, glancing away thoughtfully for a moment. Then he looked back toward the dragoness.

"So which is it this time?"

"What?" Faren said. She finally met his gaze, a puzzled look in her eyes.

"You said that your mother sang the song whenever you were sad or scared. That's why you sing it to yourself, isn't it?"

Faren looked away again, her expression clouding slightly, and after a moment she gave a tense sigh and nodded.

"Is something wrong?" Hunter asked, his tone gentle.

Again Faren hesitated, and that alone was enough of an answer for Hunter. Then the dragoness glanced up toward the faintly glowing spec of golden light that was Sparx up in the tree, as if worried about him overhearing their conversation, but when Hunter looked over his shoulder toward the dragonfly he heard a soft snore and knew that Sparx was already sound asleep. Faren seemed to relax just slightly when she also realized this.

"I just...I feel alone out here," she sighed meekly. "I've never been away from my brother like this..."

"Never?" Hunter asked in mild surprise.

Faren shook her head, her gaze turned toward the ground. Hunter had noticed already that Faren seemed to be a dragoness that very rarely met the gaze of another because of her extremely shy nature, but it seemed that when talking about herself she became even more evasive and reserved.

"Not since...that day...when our mother died."

Understanding immediately struck the cheetah, and he nodded absently again as he looked out thoughtfully into the dark woods.

"But I'm not mad at Cynder," Faren said suddenly, almost as if she had done something wrong. "I know she's your friend, and I don't want you to think that I blame her. Not after hearing what she went through—"

She cut herself short when Hunter held up a paw.

"It is alright," he said reassuringly. "I understand. I was the same when Ignitus and the guardians first told me the truth behind her enslavement to Malefor's will. After witnessing the atrocities the Dark Master committed and seeing her true nature, it is hard to think of her as guilty and not as a victim as well."

Faren nodded quickly. "Yeah. It must have been horrible..."

"Indeed."

A long silence passed between them, the red dragoness taking care to avoid the gaze of her feline travelling companion, and Hunter noticed that in that time where no one spoke Faren seemed to retreat into herself again. Though he didn't entirely understand why, it caused a fleeting pang of sadness within him to see her always trying to isolate herself. It was as if she was terrified that any contact with another could cause her pain, and that she was afraid of allowing someone to get to know her. He decided to see how deeply this feeling ran, and whether or not he could draw her out of it.

"So your brother always looked after you?" he offered.

Faren glanced briefly toward him before nodding.

"My father did too, of course, but ever since the attack he was always busy trying to look out for the other refugees from our village. After we got to the eastern city and he became an elder there, he just got busier. Sirius always made sure to look out for me, though."

"He must care for you very much."

The faintest of smiles touched the dragoness's lips, and there was a brief glimmer of warmth in her eyes as she nodded.

"Yeah. He's a good brother."

"Is that why you came with him to Warfang?" Hunter asked. "Because you two are so close?"

"Partly, but partly because our father thought it was a good idea."

"Did he?" Hunter said with interest. "Why is that?"

Faren frowned in thought for a moment, almost as if she didn't fully know the answer for that question, and when she again spoke it was with an air of uncertainty.

"I think he might have been worried about how I would do without Sirius," she said. "I'm...not good at meeting people, so I don't have any other friends in the city, and he's always so busy with elder matters. I would be alone all the time."

She gave a sad sigh, and Hunter again felt a small swell of pity. Clearly this dragoness had not had an easy childhood, growing up during a war, and now it seemed to have left a terrible mark on her.

_Perhaps meeting Spyro and Cynder will turn out to be a good thing for her_, he thought. _Knowing more dragons her age can only help her._

"And also, he thought that it would be good if I was there to see Sirius's training," Faren continued a moment later. "He said that the chance to learn under the guardians was worth moving to Warfang for a while."

"Indeed," Hunter nodded. "Your brother has been granted a high honour, especially now that he gets to learn under all three guardians. I'm told that traditionally, when a guardian takes an apprentice to train as their successor that trainee learns from that guardian exclusively. I suppose that means the training is more focussed, but I cannot help but think that learning from only one teacher for years and years would lead to a much narrower mindset. This may not have been a problem with Ignitus as a teacher, but learning from all three guardians will no doubt be beneficial. He will do well, I'm sure."

"Yeah, Sirius was always a good learner," Faren nodded. "Everyone in the eastern city says he's gifted with fire. He's already mastered techniques that a lot of adult dragons haven't. Father was always extremely proud of him, and all his other teachers were too. I think they already think of him as a guardian of sorts because of his skill."

"He has advanced quickly, has he?"

Faren nodded again. "Really quickly. All of his teachers loved having him as a student."

Hunter studied the dragoness's expression closely at those words, because something about them seemed to bear a hint of jealousy. He decided to put his suspicion to the test.

"It must be difficult at times, growing up in his shadow."

Faren glanced at him closely for a second, as if suspicious of what he meant by that, but then she simply shrugged and said quietly, "I guess."

"You do not ever resent him for his skill?"

"What?" Faren said in surprise. "Oh, no! No, I know that I can never be as good as he is. It's just...something I've accepted, I guess. He never rubs it in or...or anything, and he's always supportive. My father too. Even if I'm never going to be as strong as Sirius is, my father has been training me like him for a while."

This caught Hunter by surprise. He didn't know why, but Faren just never struck him as the type of dragoness that would be training in the type of advanced elemental uses and combat that a future guardian would be. She looked so...delicate, and he simply couldn't picture her sparring or battling with elements no matter how hard he tried.

"Really?" he said.

Faren seemed to notice the way he was looking at her sceptically, and she seemed to wilt slightly under his gaze. Immediately Hunter felt guilty for judging her.

"And if you are living in Warfang now, who will continue your training?" he asked finally in an attempt to break the uncomfortable silence. "Your brother?"

Faren shook her head, still not looking up at Hunter. "No, the last message we got from the guardians before leaving said that they would teach me."

Again Hunter was caught by surprise, but this time he made a conscious effort to keep it from registering too much in his expression. Instead he simply said in an even voice, "That is quite the honour."

Faren gave a small nod. "Yeah, I guess..."

Hunter frowned in puzzlement when he caught the edge of uncertainty in her tone.

"You are worried about learning under them?"

Faren was silent for a moment as she considered her response. She shrugged. "I...I don't know. What if...they don't think I'm good enough? I mean, they're so powerful, and I'm not strong like my brother. They're used to teaching future guardians, and Spyro, but I'm just a normal dragon..."

"If you think that matters in the slightest to them, you're mistaken," Hunter told her reassuringly. "I have known the guardians for several years now, and never once have I seen them look down on another dragon. They are excellent teachers, and you should be proud to have the chance to learn from them. You will see."

Faren nodded slowly but looked away again, unsure of herself and his words, and Hunter gave a small sigh as he realized that he wasn't going to convince her easily. He felt confident that the guardians would be able to boost her self-esteem, however. They seemed to have a way of bringing out the best in the dragons they interacted with.

Nothing more was said between them that night aside from the occasional couple of words. When their meat was ready Hunter rose and handed one of the pieces to Faren, who consumed it with obvious hunger even though she was delicate with her handling of it. After that Hunter returned to the tree he had been leaning against earlier before leaning back against it and devouring his own meal. Then, with full stomachs and a calming fire to warm them during the night, the two quickly slipped away into sleep.

The following morning the trio rose early and prepared to set off on the next leg of their journeys. After they had caught their respective breakfasts and had their fill, Sparx bid his fellow travellers a reluctant farewell before anxiously setting off on his own in a general northerly direction, heading for the swamps where he would find his childhood home. Shortly afterward Hunter and Faren resumed their own journey to the east, travelling at a slightly less demanding pace than that of the day before. The journey was uneventful for the morning and most of the afternoon. Then the landscape around them began to change. The grasslands to the north were replaced by scattered patches of forest that grew gradually more marshy in appearance, while the land to the south became more rocky as they drew nearer to the coast. Eventually they began coming across some small coastal mountains, no more than a couple hundred feet high and formed of jagged rock while on the other side the land fell sharply away in a high cliff that plunged into the sea.

"The city isn't too much farther," Faren declared as they began passing the first of the low mountains. "You see that mountain ahead that's a little bigger than the rest? It's around on the other side of that."

"We should make it within the hour, then," Hunter said, glad to be close to their destination. "This is good news."

They quickened their pace, eager to reach the end of their journey, but no sooner had they done so than Hunter's falcon suddenly dove down toward them emitting a string of insistent shrieks and cries. Puzzled, both the cheetah and the dragoness drew to a halt as the bird circled Hunter's head, still keeping up its squawks and shrieks.

"What is it?" Faren asked anxiously, for there was an unmistakable note of alarm in the falcon's cries.

"There appears to be danger ahead," Hunter replied as he listened to the falcon. "Just ahead, to the north-west of the mountain."

"But that's right around the entrance to the pass that leads to the city," Faren said nervously. "What do we do?"

"We investigate," Hunter replied simply. "But cautiously. Perhaps it would be best if you remain by my side on the ground for the time being."

Faren nodded quickly and edged a few steps closer to the cheetah. Hunter paused for a moment to pull his bow over his head and off his shoulder, then turned to the falcon.

"Keep watch from above," he instructed.

The falcon gave a sharp, high-pitched chirp of clear acknowledgement before soaring off into the sky, climbing until it appeared as nothing more than a dark spec against the cloudy sky to the keen eyes of the cheetah and dragoness.

"Now, stay close to me," Hunter told Faren before setting off in the direction the falcon had reported the disturbance to be.

For several minutes the pair made their way closer to the mountain, scanning their surroundings intently for any signs of danger with every sense they had available to them. As they began to circle the mountain, Hunter felt a sense of wariness and foreboding growing within him. It was a feeling he often got when there was danger nearby, and it rarely had misled him. Something wasn't right.

It finally clicked what the source of his trouble was a moment later. As they approached a rise in the terrain where a ridge of stone jutted out from the base of the mountain, almost like a root from a tree, Hunter thought he heard something and immediately motioned for Faren to stop.

"What is it?" she whispered nervously.

"Do you hear that?" Hunter replied, pointing with a claw to his ear.

Both of them remained dead silent for a moment, barely breathing as they strained to make out any kind of noise over the faint sound of waves against the cliff on the other side of the mountain. It took some time, but eventually they both noticed a sort of strange rumble coming from over the ridge, like that of countless voices mixing together.

"What is that?" Faren asked.

"Come, let's see if we can't spot whatever the source is," Hunter replied, turning to face the ridge again.

Slowly and without a sound, the pair of travellers crept toward the lip of the ridge. When they were only a few feet short of the edge Hunter dropped onto his stomach and carefully crawled forward on all fours, inching his head gradually closer to the sharp lip in the rock. Eventually he managed to get his eyes past the edge, and a second later Faren crept up beside him and looked as well, both of them peering down into the small valley below. When they saw what lay ahead, they both felt a chill run through them.

There below them, like some kind of growth that had sprouted up in the rocky valley, was a massive host of grublins.

The camp was enormous, stretching from the foot of the mountain to the edge of the swampy forest to the north. Several small fires were scattered about the camp, grublins clustered densely around them. Hunter couldn't tell from this distance if the fires were meant for cooking meals or some other unknown purpose, but at the moment he didn't care. His only concern at the moment was the sheer number of the dark creatures. There must have been at least two thousand of them down in the valley.

"That's the pass there," Faren said weakly, pointing with a talon at a point below them and slightly to the right where a pair of sheer rocky walls rose up from the valley floor between mountain peaks, creating a sort of natural gateway that would funnel any travellers through the narrow pass. "The village is on the other side."

"There's no way past without getting spotted," Hunter said grimly, examining their surroundings. "It seems as though the grublins don't want anyone getting in or out unseen."

"What are so many of them doing here?" Faren whispered fearfully. "I thought the guardians said there were only a few sightings."

"Indeed, that's what we were told," Hunter nodded. "Apparently there were many more grublins than those that revealed themselves. They look as though they are preparing to march on the city. We must warn them, but I don't see how we can do that if we can't get past this army."

"There's another way in," Faren said quietly. "A trail that leads around the other side of the mountain. It's hidden, and dangerous, but it should get us to the city without being seen."

"That seems to be our only choice," Hunter nodded. "Can you take me there?"

Faren nodded. "Yeah, it's this way. Follow me."

She quickly spun around and began creeping back down the slope of the ridge, keeping even lower to the ground and moving considerably faster than she had on the way up. Hunter glanced once more toward the grublin camp before slipping silently after her. Once they had gone a few dozen feet and were confident that no grublins from the camp could spot them they rose to their feet and began running along the foot of the mountain, Hunter following Faren as she led him around toward the coast.

Hopefully, they could reach the city before it was too late.

***.*.***

"Okay, we should be getting close now," Spyro declared as he scanned the long valley below them. "Keep an eye out."

Demetrius merely nodded and began searching the low, winding recess in the land formed between two parallel chains of mountain peaks with his gaze for any sign of a village entrance. So far in their journey that day the two dragons had detected no signs of any hidden villages, but Tarrador's map and the reports from all the earlier scouts and messengers indicated that the village shouldn't be too much farther ahead.

"Maybe we should land and have a closer look," Spyro said a moment later. "I doubt we're going to see anything from up here."

Again Demetrius nodded, so Spyro led them both on a steep glide down into the valley, touching down at the base of the mountains a minute later and gratefully folding his tired wings against his sides. It had been quite some time since he'd undertaken a journey this long, and the fact that he'd gotten hardly any sleep the night before wasn't helping.

"So where is this cave entrance supposed to be?" Demetrius asked as he examined the landscape surrounding them, which consisted of sheer rock slopes on their right and lightly forested valley to their left.

"It should be at the base of the mountains on our right," Spyro replied, looking around at their surroundings with a light scowl on his features. "But Terrador said it was pretty well hidden. Come on, let's start looking."

Demetrius agreed, and together the pair of dragons began making their way along the bordering area between the lightly wooded valley below them and the steep mountain slopes above them. All the while Spyro kept a sharp eye out for any sign of a cave entrance, but also for movement in the trees. The plan was to check on the village first and determine its status before moving on to the surroundings and seeing if they could locate any evidence of grublin activity in the area. So far there hadn't been any sign of the dark creatures, but Spyro wasn't about to let his guard down. After all, this was reported to be the area where two dragons around his age were attacked.

"Wait," Demetrius said suddenly. "I think I have something."

"What is it?" Spyro asked curiously, turning around to face his companion.

"I feel an opening in the earth ahead," the earth dragon replied with a distant expression, as if he was looking through Spyro and at the landscape beyond instead of at him. "It feels large..."

Spyro frowned in concentration and focussed on his earth element, directing his attention toward the ground beneath his feet and gradually expanding his senses, trying to feel the very makeup of the rock and soil beneath him. Only a moment later he encountered something several dozen metres behind him and to his left; a strange void where he thought solid rock should have been. He grinned wryly at his discovery.

"I can't believe I didn't notice that," he chuckled.

Demetrius grinned as well. "Well, for earth dragons it's instinctual to always listen to the earth, but when you have so many other powers as well I suppose it isn't as natural."

"No, I guess not," Spyro nodded. "I guess it's a good thing you're here, huh? Come on."

"Right behind you, sir."

Spyro quickly turned around again and jogged in the direction that he had felt the opening in the earth, using his earth element to guide him directly to it. Just ahead he could see a group of small trees at the base of a mountain on their right, and it was right where those trees were that Spyro could feel the void. He quickened his pace and brushed through the tangles branches and needles a few seconds later.

"Looks like this is it," he declared as Demetrius came up beside him.

The earth dragon looked at the recess in the earth before them, his eyes widening slightly with surprise. "It's sealed."

"Yeah, it's strange," Spyro agreed. "Maybe the grublins they said they were seeing made them nervous."

"So do we just go through?"

Spyro hesitated only a moment before nodding. "We had better see how they're doing in there. If they're nervous enough to seal off their cavern, it only makes our mission here more important."

He stepped up to the edge of the recess and rested a forepaw against the thick stone barrier that had been erected in the opening. Calling on his earth power, he focussed on the barrier and began pulling it apart. The rock groaned for a moment before a fissure appeared down its centre, gradually expanding until it was large enough for both dragons to fit through. Only once he was sure they could both pass easily did Spyro relax and allow his power to abate.

"Let's go see who's home," he declared before stepping through the opening.

The cavern inside was much larger and much darker than Spyro had been anticipating, and for almost a minute he was hardly able to see anything of the interior as he waited for his vision to adjust to the dim light that was filtering through cracks and air shafts in the cavern ceiling. When he was finally able to make out the village ahead, though, he immediately faltered.

"What happened here?" Demetrius gasped.

Spyro could do little more than shake his head, stunned silent by what he was seeing. Whole blocks of stone buildings within the village were collapsed and burned, and there wasn't a single sign of life anywhere within the cavern. Absolute silence reigned, so total that it felt almost like a physical presence that pressed down on the two dragons. It was clear to Spyro that something terrible had happened here.

"Come on," he said grimly. "We'd better have a look."

Slowly and warily, the two dragons began descending the slope that led to the western edge of the village, every sense straining for the slightest hint of danger. Much to Spyro's confusion, there wasn't a single indication that anyone inhabited the cavern. The streets were completely deserted, every building they checked empty. Their footsteps on the dusty street were the only sounds within that enclosed space, and the absolute silence was making Spyro extremely anxious.

"Where is everyone?" he muttered. "It's like they all just vanished."

"There was clearly a battle here," Demetrius remarked, examining a crumbled wall on their right as they passed it. "Maybe they all evacuated and tried to find refuge somewhere else."

"If any of them even made it out," Spyro grunted.

"Some of them must have. Otherwise who cleaned up the bodies?"

Spyro paused thoughtfully at this, and he realized that the earth dragon had a point. The signs of a struggle were all around them, as well as scattered, dried stains of blood, but not a single body was in sight. But why would the villagers take the time to clear away the bodies if they weren't going to stay? As he and Demetrius entered the western side of a small village square, Spyro was unable to come up with any kind of explanation.

"What was that?" Demetrius said suddenly.

"What?" Spyro asked, immediately going rigid and looking around, searching for signs of danger.

"I thought I heard something," the earth dragon replied. "I think it was over..."

A sudden, sharp crackling sound reached their ears, and both of them immediately realized what it was. Spyro felt fear and surprise explode through him, but there was no time to react before a supercharged bolt of electricity suddenly slammed into him from the left, sending a surge of current through every inch of his body. He gave a startled, painful cry before collapsing limply to the ground.

"Master Spyro!" Demetrius exclaimed in horror, and he immediately settled into a battle stance, his gaze whipping in every direction to try and locate their attacker.

At that moment Spyro was suddenly aware of movement all around them, and with a tremendous struggle he managed to lift his head past the dull, weakening pain that still coursed through him from the electric charge and gasped when he saw several figures moving in the shadows of the surrounding buildings.

"Go," he grunted weakly to his earth dragon companion.

"What?" Demetrius blurted.

"Go!" Spyro ordered more forcefully. "Tell the guardians that—"

He was suddenly cut off as another bolt of electricity consumed him, and he screamed in pain as the extreme surge felt like it was going to tear him apart from the inside out. The jolt of energy surged through his skull, obliterating all thought from his mind. The current suddenly increased sharply in strength, and Spyro could no longer fight it. With a weak groan he sank limply to the ground, blackness creeping around the edges of his vision. He was barely aware of Demetrius taking to the air and flapping as hard as he could for the cavern entrance before the darkness completely consumed him and he slipped helplessly into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p><strong>Oooh, cliffhanger. What have I done to Spyro? I'm not telling! X)<strong>

**You'll just have to wait and find out. Until next time...**


	15. Chapter 14

**Okay, so before getting on with this chapter, I just want to take a moment to thank everyone that has been reading this story so far. Over the course of the last month alone this story has received over 3,000 hits from almost 1,000 individual visitors, which is WAY more than I ever expected to get for my first FF story! It's awesome!  
><strong>

**Also, a HUGE thank you to the people who have reviewed up to this point. Your comments are MASSIVELY appreciated, and it always makes me extremely happy to hear that someone liked my work. You've made my first foray into fan fiction writing a great deal more enjoyable, and I'm very grateful for that.**

**Alright, enough with the speech already. On with the story!**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 14:<span>_

With every rapid beat of his tiny wings that he took, the landscape became even more familiar.

Sparx had never felt the kind of nervous excitement that had overtaken him now as he wound his way through the thick tangle of vines, creepers, and gigantic mushrooms that completely surrounded him. He had yet to reach the dragonfly village, but he could easily tell that he was getting close. When he looked around now, it was like travelling back in time into his memories. Everything looked the same as the last time he had seen this place. Sights, sounds, even smells that had faded to a mere shadow of recollection but that had never been truly forgotten came surging back to him and filled him with giddy joy.

He knew that he was getting close to his destination, and when he thought about it he was surprised by the time he had made getting there. It was barely past midday, whereas he hadn't been expecting to reach the swamp until early that evening.

_I wasn't flying that fast, was I?_ he wondered, but then he gave a grunt and a shrug. _I guess I must have been more eager to get here than I thought_.

With some difficulty, Sparx forced his way through a dense cluster of vines and moss hanging from the branches of trees overhead, nearly getting caught in it twice before he finally emerged, breathless, on the other side where the mushrooms and trees fell away to reveal a sort of trail through the swamp.

"Eww," Sparx grimaced as he quickly brushed himself off, making a face as he peeled off a particularly slimy piece of moss debris from his shoulder. "I missed this place, but not enough to want to carry it all around with me." He then glanced back toward the curtain of moss and vines that he had barely been able to penetrate through and chuckled. "Good thing Spyro's not here, or he would have got caught up in there for sure."

Glancing around, Sparx suddenly realized that this path looked familiar to him. Puzzled, he began slowly floating down the winding trail before it suddenly hit him; this was the exact same path that he and Spyro had followed on their way out of the village three years ago. Upon this realization, Sparx was forced to chuckle. Three years later, he was returning home along the very same route he had taken to leave it. He quickened his pace, knowing that he didn't have much farther left to go. A few more minutes at the most, and he would be at the village. As he flew, his mind was spinning with questions.

_I wonder how they'll react when they see me. Will anyone even recognize me? What will I say when I get there? And what will Mom and Dad think? Ha, Mom's probably going to completely freak!_

He faltered, drawing to a sudden halt in the air, and chilling sense of dread washed over him.

_Mom's going to completely freak._

He groaned, suddenly wishing more than ever that Spyro was there to divert some of his parents' attention away from him. With him all alone, he wasn't sure if he was going to survive.

There was nothing for it, though. Only a few minutes later the path began to widen and the familiarly shaped trees and mushrooms of the village came into view ahead. In the shadow of the towering mushroom caps and the overcast sky, it was impossible to miss the multicoloured glowing pinpricks of light that were dragonflies leisurely floating about the small open clearing in the centre of the village. Seeing his own kind again for the first time since leaving his home brought a surge of excitement and happiness that he had never expected to feel, but now it just felt _so good_ to be among dragonflies again. For too long he had been stuck in the company of creatures who all seemed to have a death wish, but no longer. No more dragon guardians thrusting the fate of the world on the shoulders of him and his brother. No more evil she-dragons dogging his every move with that much-too-amused smirk on her face. No more ancient dragons in creepy moon temples and their riddles of doom.

_Dragons_, he sighed inwardly, shaking his head. _They're all just messed up in general._

He was suddenly aware of murmuring all around him, and he glanced around to see that many of the dragonflies in the village had noticed his arrival and were staring at him with obvious surprise, whispering to each other in disbelief. Sparx couldn't help but grin and began advancing further into the village, noting how their eyes all followed him. After all, before he had left the village he had been quite well-known amongst the other dragonflies—not in a good way, of course. He was infamous for his ability to cause trouble, and by extension Spyro as well since Sparx had always had a gift for dragging the then overgrown purple dragonfly into his mischievous schemes with him. Now, as the dragonflies watched him pass, Sparx thought he saw a hint of dread in their expressions.

He felt an enormous swell of pride at that.

"I'm ho-ome!" he exclaimed happily at the top of his voice, spreading his arms out wide.

The murmuring grew louder and Sparx chuckled, but a moment later his grin was wiped from his face and replaced by a look of shock when he heard a sudden, unmistakable voice.

"Sparx?"

The word had come as little more than a whisper from out of sight on the golden dragonfly's right, but he didn't need to see the speaker to know who it was. Slowly, as if he were caught in a daze, Sparx rotated to his right until the speaker came into view.

A pink and green female dragonfly was gaping at Sparx with a look of complete and utter shock on her face. Numbly, she dropped the tiny woven basket full of an assortment of small berries and herbs she had apparently picked from the swamp, though she clearly didn't notice it fall.

"Mom," Sparx said weakly, feeling surprise sweep over him as he turned to face the other dragonfly.

All at once the stunned look on Nina's face was replaced by one of pure and utter joy, and with a delighted cry she raced forward and grabbed her son in her arms. Sparx gasped as he became locked in her crushing embrace.

"Sparx! I don't believe it!" she exclaimed joyfully, her voice sounding like she was somewhere between laughing and crying. "You're alive!"

"Hey Mom," Sparx stuttered breathlessly, having a great deal of difficulty breathing past her grip on him. "Been a while, huh?"

Nina laughed loudly and finally released her hold on her son, holding the golden dragonfly out at arm's length before turning to look over her shoulder. "Flash!"

"What is it?" another familiar voice called from out of sight behind the stalk of a nearby giant mushroom. "Nina?"

A bright blue dragonfly appeared a moment later, and when he saw Sparx hovering in front of Nina his eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

"Son?" he choked out.

"You bet!" Sparx said, grinning broadly. "Thought I'd drop in for a little visit."

Flash gave a joyful laugh before darting forward and grabbing his son in an embrace just as Nina had, though his grip was even tighter and Sparx was able to utter little more than a squeak of pain as his body felt like it was being crushed. Finally Flash released Sparx from his grip and Sparx was able to breathe again.

"It's so good to see you back!" Flash exclaimed. "We were beginning to think we were never going to see you again!"

"It's been over three years!" Nina added in a slightly disbelieving tone. "We were so scared that something must have happened to you and your brother!"

"Yeah, well, you know," Sparx said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry about that. It...felt a lot shorter to us. Spyro and I sorta...lost track of time at one point there."

"Speaking of which..." Flash interrupted, glancing around with a puzzled frown. "Where is Spyro? Is he here with you?"

Sparx hesitated, anxious about disappointing his parents, and a worried look came over their expressions when he didn't answer right away.

"Is he alright?" Nina asked anxiously.

"Oh, yeah, he's fine!" Sparx said quickly, holding his hands up reassuringly. "The big guy's doing great. Something just...came up. He wanted to see you guys again, really, but there was something else that he had to take care of. You know, he's kinda busy nowadays. He told me to say hi for him, though, and that he misses you."

Flash and Nina were clearly relieved to hear that Spyro was alright, but also disappointed that he wasn't coming to the village and that they wouldn't be able to see him.

"Well, it's good to hear that he's doing well, at least," Nina sighed at length. "But I would have liked so much to see him."

"I'm sure he'll come back to visit sometime," Sparx said, trying to sound comforting. "He just has a lot on his plate right now, that's all. When he gets a chance, I'm sure he'll be back."

"So what is it that he's so busy with?" Flash said inquisitively. "Did you boys ever find the answers that he was looking for?"

Sparx snorted humorously, and both of his parents shot him quizzical looks.

"Oh, yeah, he found his answers," Sparx chuckled. "I think he found a lot more answers than he really wanted to find."

"What do you mean?" Nina asked, catching the slightly ominous edge in Sparx's voice.

Sparx heaved a sigh before replying, "It's a _really_ long story."

***.*.***

Absolute silence reigned in the dense woods far to the north of Warfang, the only sound that broke the stillness being that of the footsteps of a small deer as it calmly abandoned the cover of the thicker underbrush in favour of a sheltered clearing filled with long, thick grass. Finding a favourable spot, the deer leaned its long neck down and began pulling at the long, sweet grass, enjoying a simple midday meal. Little did it known that it was being watched at that very moment.

A pair of icy blue eyes peered out from behind the cover of a thickly-leaved bush on the upwind side of the clearing, fixed on the deer that remained completely oblivious to the presence of any other creatures in the area. The moderately-sized ice dragon clenched his talons in the soft earth beneath his paws, anticipation rushing through his rigid body. The great predator calculated his move with incredible precision. All it would take was a single second for him to cross the distance between him and his prey. Muscles tensing and bunching, the ice dragon suddenly leapt through the front of the bush. The deer snapped its head around at the sound, but by the time it saw the dragon coming he was already halfway to it, claws outstretched and jaws ready to clamp down on his victim.

At that moment, however, the ice dragon was taken by surprise when the deer suddenly disappeared from in front of him amidst a blur of jet-black scales. Landing heavily in the clearing where the deer had just been standing, the ice dragon looked over to his left before letting out a grudging chuckle.

"Nice move," he said. "I thought for sure I had that one."

Cynder flashed the ice dragon a triumphant smirk before turning to glance down at the deer that lay motionlessly beneath her talons, a look of stunned surprise frozen on its lifeless features. She withdrew her blood-stained tail blade from between its shoulder blades and proceeded to wipe it clean on the grass.

"Too slow, I guess," she grinned. "Maybe you'll get the next one, Gelus."

"Somehow I doubt that," the ice dragon replied, chuckling again. "For some reason I get the impression that you're just toying with me on these hunts."

"Now why would I do that?" Cynder asked innocently, though with a mischievous smirk as well. "Come on, be a gentle-dragon and help me carry this back to the camp."

Gelus arched a brow inquisitively at her, and he asked jokingly, "Isn't the one who made the catch supposed to bring it back?"

"No, the one who made the catch gets to gloat about it while they have someone else do their work for them."

"Ah," Gelus smirked. "Of course. Oh, fine, give it here."

Cynder chuckled before shifting over and using a forepaw to lift the deer off the ground and push it toward the ice dragon, who then took hold of it in his talons before spreading his wings and taking to the air. Cynder followed closely, and together the pair flew westward in the direction of their makeshift campsite where they had stopped for a short rest. As they flew the two dragons continued to poke fun at each other and laugh as they winged their way through the sky.

Though Cynder would have much preferred to be travelling with Spyro, she had learned quickly over the course of the previous day that she enjoyed Gelus's company as well. When they had first set off from Warfang there had been little said between them at first, and Cynder had initially been worried that this was an indication that this ice dragon would bear a similar disposition to the only other ice dragon she knew; Cyril. However, she was pleasantly surprised to find that this wasn't the case. While at rare times Gelus would show some of the pompousness that was so well known in the ice guardian, usually he was actually very good-tempered, kind, funny, and even charming at times. Cynder had very quickly decided that she liked him, and she was extremely grateful for the companionship he provided. As a bonus, he had never once judged Cynder about her past and as far as she could tell he bore no animosity or suspicion toward her in any way, which was very unlike what she had noticed in most of the other dragons in Warfang who would greet her warmly but would still hold a clear wariness in their body language whenever around her. But Gelus was different, and his light-hearted kindness did wonders in raising Cynder's spirits whenever she felt saddened by Spyro's absence from her side.

_I hope he's alright,_ she thought as they flew.

She quickly shook off the worried thought. Spyro was the purple dragon of prophecy and legend, after all. If anyone could look after themselves, he could. And besides, he wasn't alone either. From what Gelus had told her Demetrius was one of the best amongst their group of Guard recruits when it came to both fighting and survival. If there happened to be any trouble, Spyro was in good hands.

Still, for a reason she couldn't comprehend, a nagging unease plagued her as she thought about her purple companion. However she was brought back to the here and now when Gelus called out from ahead.

"Alright, home sweet home," he declared with exaggerated cheerfulness as the pair came in to land at the edge of the trees where they had stopped to make camp. Of course, for dragons, making camp didn't entail much. Mostly the only indication that anyone had even been there at all was the small bronze pile that sat just outside of the tree line—Gelus's scout armour. "You know, I'm disappointed with the rate of construction. We should at least have some kind of mansion or something by now."

Cynder laughed lightly and shook her head with amusement as Gelus laid the deer out on the ground and stretched out his wings and shoulders to relieve the tension from carrying the extra load.

"It's too bad we have no way of roasting this," the ice dragon commented as he eyed their catch. "I'm not usually one to envy fire dragons, but at least they get to make themselves a warm meal whenever they want to."

"What, you have a problem with eating it raw?" Cynder joked.

"No," Gelus huffed immediately, puffing out his chest and turning his nose up as if from insult, and Cynder giggled at his play of haughtiness. "I enjoy a raw catch as much as any dragon. I just feel that after a long day of travelling, it shouldn't be too much to ask for a meal that's had a little effort put into it."

"So hard to please," Cynder sighed while rolling her eyes.

Gelus chuckled before turning his attention back to the deer. Cynder also began to turn around to move toward the deer to begin eating but as she turned her forepaw struck something solid on the otherwise earthy ground. Looking down curiously she noticed a lumpy, dark rock sticking out of the soil, but not just any rock; flint. A dead tree branch was lying just beside it on top of a clump of dried grass, and Cynder grinned. Turning about, she slashed her tail blade across the surface of the flint and was rewarded by a shower of sparks that danced across the clump of dried grass and began smouldering within it. A short gust of her wind element was all that was needed to ignite a healthy blaze.

"Who needs a fire dragon?" she asked smugly.

Gelus stared for a long moment at the fire in surprise before shaking his head and chuckling.

"Show-off."

"Oh, stop complaining. You have your fire. You going to use it or what?"

Gelus merely shot her a grin before setting to work on the deer, using his sharp talons to carve out several thick pieces of the meat and setting them aside. Cynder, meanwhile, simply walked over to the deer before using her tail blade to slice out a choice piece and skewer it, using her tail to lift the meat over the fire to roast. Gelus opted for a less active approach, and after a brief search he found a thin, flat piece of rock and arranged a number of his cuts of meat onto it before slipping the rock over the flames. With his meal now cooking on its own, he laid down close to the fire and began lazily chewing on one of the uncooked pieces while he waited for the others to be ready.

"So do you know how much farther it is to this city?" Gelus asked several minutes later as he used a single talon to flip over the cooking meat.

"Not too much farther," Cynder replied, pulling her tail back from the flames to examine the progress of her own meal. "No more than an hour's flight."

Gelus grunted and nodded his head. "And how will we know when we see the village? I mean, isn't the whole idea of being hidden so that it's hard to find?"

"Terrador's map said that it should be under a large rise in the terrain with some really big trees on top. I'm sure we'll know it when we see it." But then she frowned, glancing around at the landscape that surrounded them. "It's strange, though. I would have never thought this was an area where someone would go to hide."

"What do you mean?" the ice dragon said curiously.

"It's so open," Cynder replied, gesturing with a forepaw at the rolling plains that were interrupted only by the occasional grove of trees. "You would think that a village, even underground, would stand out in a place like this. It definitely wouldn't have been my choice."

"Maybe it wasn't a choice," Gelus said with a shrug. "Maybe they just made their shelter where they were forced to and hoped that no one would find it."

"Well, however they made it, I guess they did a good job of it if they weren't discovered during the war. I know for a fact that I passed through this area many times over the years, and I never saw any indication of any village."

"Well, it's hopeless then," Gelus sighed, throwing a paw up in defeat. "We don't stand any chance of finding this place if they were able to hide from _you_ for so long."

Cynder gave the ice dragon an amused glare and he chuckled again before returning his attention to his meal. He immediately let out a surprised growl of "Oh, damn it!" when he suddenly realized that the meat was beginning to burn, and with a hurried motion he grabbed the stone with a forepaw and dragged it out of the fire. Cynder noted with great interest that his paw somehow wasn't burned by the stone, but a moment later she noticed a fine steam rising from the point of contact. She realized that he was continuously coating the paw with a thin film of ice to prevent his pad from burning without cooling the rock so much that the meat was cooled as well. He then skewered one of the slices of meat with a single talon before flipping it up into the air and catching it between his jaws, devouring it in only a couple of bites and giving a deep, contented growl. Cynder chuckled before setting to work on her own meal.

At length Cynder decided that the two dragons should be continuing on their journey, although with a great deal of reluctance; with her stomach full from a large, warm meal she would have loved to just stretch out and spend an hour or two napping, but she knew all too well that they had a job to do. Groaning bitterly, she eventually rose to her feet.

"Come on, we need to get going. I doubt this city is going to wait for us forever."

Gelus merely nodded in agreement and, after breathing a mist of ice over the fire to extinguish it, moved over to his pile of armour. Because of how light it was he was able to put it on without too much difficulty and without requiring assistance, and only a couple of minutes later he was ready to depart. With a small grin he motioned forward with a wing.

"Ladies first."

Cynder smirked before spreading her wings and leaping into the air with Gelus following right off her wingtip. They both immediately turned northward and set off at a rapid pace, flying only about a hundred feet off the ground as the grass and trees whipped past below them. The flight was spent mostly with friendly conversation passing between the two dragons, but they both still made certain to keep a keen eye on their surroundings, both for the hidden city's location and for any signs of the reported grublin activity. So far they had yet to see either, but they were rapidly approaching the area where both were supposed to be, and Cynder felt a growing wariness within her that she recognized from every time she had ever flown into a region that was considered to be hostile controlled. Old battlefield instincts began to kick in, and though everything appeared completely calm she had an inexplicable feeling that something wasn't right.

"Cynder?" Gelus said after an unusually long silence passed between them. "Is everything alright?"

Cynder was about to reply, but when she looked toward him she thought she saw movement beyond him amongst a large patch of dense trees. Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she strained to make out more detail in the shadows below the canopy. Though she couldn't explain why, the shadows cast by the thick leaves just seemed too dense. She couldn't even see the ground at all, just a strangely shifting mass of darkness...

Her eyes suddenly went wide with shock when she realized what she was seeing, and she was just about to point it out when another motion caught her eye. At first she thought it was a small bird taking off rapidly from the forest canopy, but as it rapidly streaked toward them she realized her mistake.

"Look out!" she shouted.

Before Gelus could react or even begin to comprehend what was happening Cynder darted over to the side and tackled him, pushing him downward just as a black, gnarled arrow shot through the sky toward them. She rolled away at the last possible moment but was just a fraction of a second too slow, and she gave a startled cry as she felt the tip of the arrowhead cut across the scales of her right shoulder, drawing blood.

"Cynder!" Gelus exclaimed in horror. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Cynder grunted quickly, clutching at the gash on her shoulder with her left forepaw, grimacing from the stinging pain. The wound wasn't serious, but that didn't make it any less painful. "Just a scratch."

"Where did that come from?"

Cynder pointed with her free forepaw at the large grove of trees. "There." The she added grimly, "I think we found the grublins."

At that moment she saw another couple of arrows shoot up from the trees, but now that both dragons were fully alert they were able to climb up and away from them with relative ease. At the same time Cynder noticed that the mass of shadow was moving beneath the trees. A second later the northern edge of the grove seemed to come alive as what looked to be nothing more than a massive black blob moved out from the trees and into the plain. Cynder immediately felt the cold grip of horror in her chest.

"Is that _all_ grublins?" Gelus gasped in shock.

"It looks like it," Cynder replied. "There must be thousands of them!"

"Think they're headed for the city?"

Cynder nodded grimly. "I can't imagine any other reason for so many of them to be gathered. Come on, we need to warn the city that they're coming!"

Gelus nodded quickly, and the two dragons but on a large burst of speed and raced ahead of the army of dark creatures, hoping to reach the hidden city in time to warn the residents of the impending threat. Several minutes later the two breathless dragons had left the army behind them, out of sight in the distance, and a large tree-covered hill came into view ahead.

"There, that must be it!" Gelus exclaimed, pointing.

"Good," Cynder sighed. "Because I don't think I could have kept up this pace much longer. Come on, we need to hurry and find the entrance."

Pulling her wings in close to her body, Cynder angled her nose downward and dove sharply toward the earth, picking up speed rapidly until she was streaking like an arrow through the sky. Then, only a few feet above the ground, she opened her wings just enough to pull out of her dive and sped along just metres above the grassy earth, the large hill growing nearer with every second that passed. Only once the terrain started to rise did Cynder flare her wings out to break her forward momentum and touch down lightly on the earth. Gelus caught up to her only a moment later.

"I'll check this way," Cynder said, nodding her head to the left. "You take the other direction. Yell if you find anything."

"You got it," Gelus nodded before hurrying off.

Without wasting a second Cynder turned to her left and began her search, moving at a greatly hurried pace despite the constant twinges of pain shooting up from her shoulder. She grimaced with irritation when she noticed the way it was slowly seeping blood, staining her scales a dark red, but now was no time to worry about a little discomfort. An entire city of dragons could very well be depending on her haste.

But no matter how hard she tried, five minutes later she had still detected no sign of an entrance into an underground city. She was beginning to wonder how in the world the first scouts from Warfang had even found the city in the first place, when just at that moment she heard an excited cry.

"Cynder, over here!" Gelus shouted from somewhere out of sight around the base of the hill. "Quickly!"

Cynder was in the air in a flash and pounded her wings to reach the ice dragon. As she passed over the lip of the hill she spotted him standing just below an extremely dense tangle of trees, looking excited and quite pleased of himself.

"You found it?" she asked as she alighted on the ground beside him.

He grinned proudly and nodded. "Sure did. Take a look."

He pointed with a talon at the cluster of trees, and Cynder followed with her gaze searching for some kind of opening. She frowned when she saw nothing and turned a questioning look in the ice dragon's direction.

"No, no, _closer_," Gelus urged her, beginning to sound impatient. "At the roots."

Still doubtful, Cynder nonetheless complied and directed her gaze downward to the exposed tangle of roots at the base of the trees' trunks. At first she saw nothing, but then she noticed a strange sort of void between a number of the roots that should have been solid. She took a step closer, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, and with the help of her shadow element she examined this void. With both her eyes and her power to aid her, she suddenly realized that this wasn't just a random gap in the earth; it was a tunnel, and a very well hidden one at that.

"Good job," Cynder said approvingly, grinning. "I guess it's a good thing Terrador sent you with me after all."

Gelus gave her an insulted look, and Cynder laughed before advancing toward the tree roots.

"Come on, we don't have much time. We need to spread the warning."

With Gelus following right on her tail, Cynder began pushing her way through the curtain of roots that hid the city entrance. The thin, hair-like tangle of roots gripped at her horns and wings like hundreds of stubborn fingers, and she scowled with irritation as her progress forward was brought to little more than a crawl. She wondered whether it was supposed to be this difficult to get through, or whether the citizens of the hidden city had some way of getting through unimpeded. Regardless, she was eventually able to push past the last of the roots and emerged in a surprisingly luminous tunnel.

"Where's this light coming from?" Gelus asked, looking around in confusion.

"Up there," Cynder replied, pointing up with a wing when she finally noticed the source of the dim, greenish glow.

Above their heads, where they had expected to find solid earth, they instead found that the roots of the many trees created a sort of web-like pattern of cracks in the soil above them, allowing natural light to seep through. As a result Cynder was able to see the tunnel ahead of them with absolutely no difficulty and realized that it was hardly a tunnel at all. It only proceeded a few dozen feet ahead before opening up into some kind of vast, underground space.

"Let's keep moving," Cynder said finally. "We're wasting time."

She hurried ahead into the tunnel, feeling the pressure mounting to deliver her warning to the city before the grublins arrived. She had no idea how much longer it would take for the dark army to reach the city, and if they even knew where it was, but she wasn't about to take any chances. For all she knew they could be breaking down the front door in a matter of minutes.

She was forced to slide to a sudden, startled halt, however, when a sharp roar cut through the air in that enclosed space and two dragons leapt into the tunnel ahead of her from within the open space, cutting Cynder and Gelus off without any warning. At the same time two more dragons, who had somehow been hidden in the tangle of roots in the tunnel's walls, leapt out and cut off their retreat, trapping them.

Trying to remain calm, Cynder quickly examined the guards and noticed that they were all wearing a strange kind of armour that she had never seen before. It looked like it had been carved out of the petrified bark of an enormous tree rather than forged, and for a moment Cynder found herself lost in the stunning craftsmanship and detail of the armour. The hardened pieces were covered in raised designs and runes, given the armour a surprisingly elegant appearance for something made of such crude origins. Even the fact that they were made of natural materials and not metal somehow lent to their graceful appearance and gave them, and by extension the dragons wearing them, a sort of ethereal quality.

"Who are you?" one of the two dragons in front of them challenged. He was a fire dragon, and while his expression was relatively calm it contained an unmistakable threatening, cold edge, and Cynder could see the way his muscles bunched under his armour, ready to leap into action at the slightest provocation. "And how did you find this place?"

"We come from Warfang," Cynder replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "And we need to speak to your elders immediately. We have a warning of extreme importance to deliver."

The fire dragon guard spent a moment studying the two intruders suspiciously, noting with a sceptical frown the fact that such a young dragoness would be the one to come on official matters from Warfang. However when he looked to Gelus and saw his armour, which was of distinctly Warfangian style, he seemed slightly more convinced.

"Very well," he grunted. "If the guardians saw need to send the two of you to our city, then we will take you to our elders. Follow us."

With that the fire dragon and the second dragon in front of them turned and took to the air, flying off into the open underground space while the two behind Cynder and Gelus returned to their hidden posts to resume guarding the entrance. Without wasting a second Cynder and Gelus took off after the first two guards, hoping that they reached the elders before it was too late.

As they entered the main cavernous space that contained the city, Cynder was momentarily struck by a sense of awe at the sight of it. She had expected it to be a moderately-sized city judging by the size of the hill it was hidden underneath, but upon actually seeing it she realized that this had been a gross underestimation. The entire area of the base of the underground cavern was covered in houses and buildings of various sizes, but on top of that a large portion of the walls were covered as well, with homes built out of semi-open earth and stone platforms supported by the roots of trees above. Even the ceiling above them had the occasional building hanging down from it! The cavern roof and walls themselves seemed to be made less of stone and more of the roots of the trees covering the surface, and just like in the tunnel natural light was able to seep through miniscule gaps between these roots. As a result the entire city was cast in a strange but beautiful greenish hue that when combined with the architecture of the city itself and the armour style of the guards created a very surreal air about the place. It seemed almost like something out of a dream.

"This place is incredible," Cynder commented to the guards in an awed tone as they flew.

The only reply she received was a simple grunt.

Looking around, Cynder noticed a great number of dragons within the underground space, mostly strolling about the streets below but occasionally flying between buildings on the walls or ceiling. Many of them were watching the two newcomers curiously, and Cynder easily noticed the wary edge in their expressions. Clearly they weren't used to outsiders in their city, and in all honesty she couldn't blame them. After being driven underground by a terrible war, she wasn't surprised that they felt anxious and defensive.

It soon became clear that their destination was an upside-down building constructed in the very centre of the ceiling of the cavern. Like the homes on the walls, this one consisted mainly of light stone platforms suspended in the air by the thick roots of the trees growing above them, but unlike the rest it seemed that the tree itself was also an integral part of the construction. Many of the enormous roots looked like they had been hollowed out and served as entrances and hallways, while the inner chambers of the buildings were walled in by a combination of stone and thick bark. It was certainly the strangest building Cynder had ever seen in her life, but there was something elegant about its appearance as well. Judging by the size of it and the care that had obviously gone into its construction, Cynder guessed that this was the city hall.

The two guards steered the visitors toward the lowest open platform of the building, which was apparently the main common entrance, and Cynder felt slightly unsteady as she landed and thought she felt the free-hanging platform shifting slightly beneath her paws. While dragons weren't ones to fear heights, Cynder still found that there was something disconcerting about standing on what felt to be firm ground while her eyes and other senses told her that she was still high in the air. Swallowing her discomfort, she turned around and looked out at the city below them. It was a truly impressive sight to see the entire city stretched out far below and around her in all directions, and inside she decided that this seemed to be a very appropriate place to construct the city hall where it could overlook the entire city at all times.

"And what have we here?" an unknown, deep voice suddenly called out, breaking the silence.

Cynder spun around to see that a large, green earth dragon wearing similar armour to the other guards had stepped out of one of the root hallways which served as the building's entrance from the landing platform, and Cynder thought it was slightly ironic that a guard for a building suspended high in the air would be a dragon who's type was most comfortable on solid ground. He was now striding toward the new arrivals with a curious expression on his face, and one of slight distrust as well. He had clearly been directing his question at the fire dragon guard, but his gaze was fixed on Gelus and especially Cynder.

"Two messengers from Warfang, sir," the fire dragon replied, standing stiffly at attention as the earth dragon passed him by, which led Cynder to believe that he was some kind of ranking officer in the city's Guard force. He circled around Cynder and Gelus as if studying them. "They claim to be here with an urgent warning, and demanded to speak to the elders immediately."

"An urgent warning, huh?" the earth dragon guard grunted. "Very well. I suppose it would be prudent to allow them to speak. These are uncertain times, after all."

"Thank you," Cynder said, inclining her head.

The earth dragon merely grunted before turning to face the fire dragon. "Remain here with them. I will summon the elders."

"Yes sir."

Appearing satisfied, the earth dragon turned about and quickly marched back through the building entrance from which he'd come, disappearing inside a moment later. In the intervening silence, Cynder felt herself growing more and more on edge. At that very moment an army of thousands of grublins was marching on their position, but she could do nothing but wait for the elders to agree to meet with them. How much farther did the grublins have left to go? Miles? Metres?

Finally, after what felt like ages, the guard reappeared in the entranceway followed by four other dragons. The group quickly strode across the platform toward the waiting visitors and guards, and as they approached Cynder noticed that their leader seemed to have an unusually light, flowing quality to his steps.

"So these are the two messengers that have demanded our presence, are they?" this dragon said in a slightly raspy voice as the group drew to a halt, and Cynder suddenly gave a muffled gasp when she realized why this dragon seemed to walk so differently than others.

He was a wind dragon. His scales were a pale grey in colour with faint, off-white highlights along his back and neck that looked almost like wisps of thin cloud. His chest was the same off-white colour, as were his wings which were considerably larger than those of most other dragons his size. His body was also slightly more streamlined than that of most other males of his age.

_I haven't seen a wind dragon in years!_ Cynder thought in surprise. _I thought they were all wiped out during the war!_

Clearly she had thought wrong, because one was standing right in front of her now. And not just one, but two, for one of the other elders was a wind dragon as well, though his chest and wings were more of a bluish colour than the chief elder's.

All of a sudden, the choice of location for the city hall's construction made all the more sense.

"And may I ask what this extremely urgent message is that you're carrying?" the chief elder continued. "What could have possibly developed in the short time since Warfang's last messenger was here less than a week ago?"

"It's about the grublins, sir," Gelus replied.

The wind dragon gave a deep snort of distaste. "Indeed. And I told the last messenger that we are not in need of any assistance from your city when it came to dealing with those pathetic creatures."

"Are you completely sure of that?" Cynder asked with an icy edge in her tone, the elder's unsavoury attitude already grating on her nerves. "Because you've got a massive army of those 'pathetic creatures' marching on your city right this minute."

"An army, you say?" the elder snorted, sounding sceptical. "If by army you mean that feeble band of no more than two dozen that somehow managed to sneak into the city last night, then I hardly consider that a threat. They barely put up a fight before we drove them back out. A nuisance, and nothing more."

"No, actually, by army I mean the formation of _thousands_ that we saw just to the south of here," Cynder shot back irritably.

Those words seemed to have an effect, and the elders and guards all turned an incredulous gaze in her direction.

"Thousands?" one of the other elders said weakly.

Cynder nodded.

"This smaller group you mentioned was likely a scouting party," Gelus said. "Now their main force is on its way. There isn't much time before they arrive."

There was a tense silence for a long moment after that, but then the chief elder spoke up, still sounding far from convinced.

"And how can we be sure the two of you are telling the truth in this matter? I for one don't see much in the way of evidence of your claims."

"Well, I sure didn't get this by flying into a tree branch," Cynder replied with a scowl, turning to reveal the gash she bore on her shoulder.

This again caused the elders to pause, but for much shorter than the last time.

"We will send scouts to investigate your claim," the chief elder declared finally.

"You don't have time to send a scout!" Cynder said incredulously. "You have to act now! You need to either set up some kind of defensive, or better yet start evacuating!"

"Evacuating?" the elder choked in shock. "Preposterous! I am not about to create a panic in this city over an _alleged_ army that is supposedly bearing down on us. If such an army was in our area, we would have known."

"Well obviously you missed it, because we're telling you the truth," Cynder growled. "If you don't start evacuating this city, many dragons are going to die!"

"All we have is your word on that," the elder said irritably. "And I, for one, am hesitant to believe a claim such as this on the word of outsiders. Especially when it's _your_ word we have to go on, _Cynder_."

Cynder was caught completely unprepared for this response, and she took a hesitant step backward when she heard the unmistakable hostility in the elder's tone. The other elders and guards looked quite surprised by the chief elder's words as well. The elders were staring at Cynder in shock and even horror while the guards had immediately settled into battle stances. In response Gelus had done the same, taking up a defensive position on Cynder's right side. Cynder, however, strove to remain calm.

"You recognized me," she said simply, holding the elder's aggressive gaze with her own glare.

"Indeed," the wind dragon growled. "At first I was unsure, but your eyes are unmistakable, especially after the number of times I was forced to witness you committing your atrocities over the years. And to think that the guardians trust you now." He nearly spat in disgust. "They are fools."

His words stung Cynder to her very core, but she knew that now wasn't the time to allow such things as pain and guilt to overwhelm her. The fate of a city was resting on her shoulders, and she wasn't about to let the words of this abrasive old jerk get to her now.

"You'll be more of a fool if you do nothing while those grublins overrun your city," she shot back. "I'm telling you the truth here. That army is on its way, and any dragon caught in this city when they attack is dead."

"And why should we believe you?" the elder retorted challengingly. "We have absolutely no reason to trust you. It's because of you that many of the dragons in this city were forced to flee here in the first place! And now you expect us to believe that you're here trying to protect us? I think not!"

Cynder gave an exasperated snarl, rapidly reaching the end of her temper. "I can't believe that you're actually going to risk the lives of everyone in this city because you're too stubborn and blind to see the threat to them! I am telling you that at least a couple thousand grublins are on their way to this city _right now_, but you would rather make excuses than take action and potentially save the lives of everyone here!"

"What makes you think you have the right to lecture me about ethics and saving lives?" the elder demanded furiously, the air around the platform swirling for a brief moment in response to the spike in his anger. "You, of all dragons, who are responsible for the deaths of countless innocents!"

"It couldn't hurt to be cautious," one of the other elders interjected suddenly, catching both the chief elder and Cynder by surprise.

"Are you out of your mind?" the aged wind dragon exclaimed. "We are not going to send this city into a frenzy on the word of the Terror of the Skies! It's—"

He was suddenly cut short as a sudden, deep rumble shattered the stillness within the cavern. Every dragon on the platform whirled around to face the southern entrance through which Cynder and Gelus had arrived to see a thick plume of smoke and dust curling away from what used to be the tunnel entrance, but what was now a gaping hole in the hillside. The unearthly shriek of hundreds of grublins could soon be heard echoing throughout the underground city as a mass of dark bodies surged through the breach. Screams of terror from the citizens soon followed.

"They're here!" Gelus exclaimed in horror.

"Alright, we've wasted too much time!" Cynder snapped angrily. She turned to face the elders again. "Start evacuating the city! Meanwhile, I'm going to need every dragon who can fight to come with me to try and slow those grublins down before they trap us down here!"

"Wha—" the chief elder blurted incredulously. "What makes you think that you can just take charge here? This is our city, not yours!"

"Now isn't the time to debate authority!" Cynder snarled. "Dragons are dying down there, and you want to preserve your ego? Just do as I say!"

"And what makes you think you're qualified to just take command? You're hardly more than a hatchling!"

"Alright, everyone present who has experience commanding large numbers of forces in a combat situation, raise a paw," Gelus said irritably. He glanced around quickly at the gathered dragons, all of whom were frozen in place by fear and surprise by the sudden appearance of the grublins. "Oh, that's right, just Cynder."

"Why, you—"

"I'll give you all the assistance I can," the earth dragon guard said suddenly, addressing Cynder. He then turned to the fire dragon guard. "Muster the rest of the Guard and tell them to come assist us in holding these grublins back." Then he turned to the remaining guard. "You gather some volunteers to start evacuating the citizens out the northern exit before the grublins surround us."

Both dragons nodded sharply before taking to the air.

"What?" the chief elder exclaimed in shock. "I'll have you imprisoned for the rest of your life for this insubordination!"

"That will only be if we survive this attack," the earth dragon shot back evenly. Then he turned to Cynder again. "The Guard is at your disposal."

Cynder felt a swell of gratitude toward the large earth dragon, but she knew there was no time to waste and only nodded quickly.

"Alright, let's get down there," she said, spreading her wings. "We need to buy those citizens some time."

She flapped her wings down hard and leapt off the platform, Gelus and the earth dragon following off her wings and leaving the elders staring after them in shock.

By the time they reached the site of the breach in the wall, it was already a ghastly scene of chaos and destruction. Dragons caught in their homes near the point where the grublins broke into the city were left trapped by the tidal wave of enemy forces and many were slaughtered in their homes. Those that did make it into the streets were being chased down mercilessly, and as they approached Cynder was horrified by the scene of fear, desperation and pain. Her horror was not only as a result of the sight of so many dragons meeting their ends, but also because of how terribly familiar it all appeared; she had witnessed similar scenes many times from the other side of the conflict.

"Help us!"

The scream from an ice dragoness shook Cynder back to the present, and she soon located the source of the cry. The dragoness was pinned against a corner between houses, two hatchlings held tightly beneath her wings to shelter them from the terrible sights and sounds around them while a male earth dragon tried to fight off the waves of grublins converging on them, desperate to defend his family. Immediately Cynder angled her wings to help. After shooting low over the rooftops, she braked hard and dropped from the sky right beside the earth dragon before darting forward and unleashing a thick stream of her shadow fire, burning and asphyxiating the attacking grublins at the same time and forcing them to retreat.

"Go!" she shouted at the other dragons during the following lull.

They wasted no time in complying, and in a flash the male had darted back to his mate's side before they both took off running down the streets together with their children.

"Cynder!" Gelus cried from overhead. "On your right! Look out!"

Cynder looked just in time to see a grublin leaping toward her with its bladed weapon ready to deliver a killing blow to her exposed flank, but Cynder was too quick for it. She spun around and lashed out with her tail, slicing the grublin across the chest and throwing it back into a group of its companions, knocking them all down. She then took to the skies once again, regrouping with Gelus.

"This is chaos!" he exclaimed in a frantic tone, looking around at the devastation surrounding them. "There's way too many grublins and not enough dragons here!"

"We need to slow them down until the rest of the Guard gets here," Cynder grunted, ducking to avoid an arrow that was shot in her direction at the same time. She then suddenly got an idea. "Fall back and start sealing off as many of the streets as you can with ice. Hopefully it will slow down their ground forces enough for the guard to form a defensive line."

"And what are you going to do?" Gelus asked anxiously.

"I'm going to try and buy you some time," she replied.

"What?" Gelus exclaimed incredulously. "But Cynder, I'm supposed to be looking out for—"

"Now's not the time!" Cynder snapped. "Just go! There's a city full of dragons that need you more than I do right now!"

Gelus's jaw clenched and his expression turned grim, but nonetheless he gave a stiff nod before turning in the air and rushing off deeper into the city to begin creating barriers in the streets. Cynder, meanwhile, turned to face the advancing army.

"Cynder!" came another sudden call, and she turned her head to see the earth dragon guard flying toward her accompanied by an ice dragon and two fire dragons. "Where do you want us?"

"You go help Gelus," Cynder said, pointing with a talon at the ice dragon before motioning with her chin toward her companion's position. "The rest of you, with me. We're going to try and slow down the advance while we wait for reinforcements."

The ice dragon immediately flew off toward Gelus, who had already blocked off the main street with a thick wall of ice and was moving on to the adjacent street. The other three dragons, meanwhile, crowded around Cynder in the air.

"So how exactly are you planning on slowing all these grublins down?" one of the fire dragons asked sceptically, motioning toward the massive flow of grublins surging toward them.

"Like this."

Turning to face the grublin advance, Cynder drew in a deep breath and called upon deep reserves of her power before cracking her jaws open wide and expelling a blazing beam of convexity energy at the advancing column of dark creatures. The beam struck at the very head of the formation, throwing up a tremendous violet explosion and sending the scorched bodies of grublins flying back into the enemy ranks, knocking several more over. Those grublins that escaped the explosion unharmed still drew to a panicked halt in the face of the violet blast directly in front of them. The three dragon guards turned to gape at Cynder in astonishment at the sight of her power.

"Now spread out and start harassing the heads of the columns," Cynder ordered, motioning toward the lines of grublins that were still advancing unimpeded along the other streets of the city. "And no heroics! We just need to slow them down a bit, not stop them! Don't go getting yourselves killed."

The three dragons nodded and split up, fanning out in front of the advancing army and diving into the fray. Cynder spent a moment before reengaging to examine the situation, and she was slightly encouraged by what she saw. The grublins had already managed to push almost a quarter of the way into the city in some areas, while where Cynder was hovering it was significantly less, but the City Guard dragons were rapidly organizing into a coordinated front to meet them and as time went on the dark creatures were able to advance less and less. Even despite this, though, the fight had already taken a tremendous toll on the dragons, and Cynder had to fight to repress a swell of sorrow and nausea when she saw dragons all around getting struck down by grublin swords, clubs, and arrows.

_That arrogant fool_, she thought in despair, feeling a swell of fury toward the city's chief elder. _This could have all been avoided if he had just listened!_

But she knew that she couldn't waste time feeling angry now. Several of the city's main streets had now been blocked off by walls of ice and earth, several ice and earth dragons joining in to help Gelus create the makeshift barricades, but if the grublin advance wasn't slowed for just a little while longer then their efforts would all be for nothing. Turning back toward the grublin ranks, she readied another blast of convexity and unleashed it, felling a dozen more of the dark creatures.

For what felt like an eternity Cynder fought, strafing along the front of the grublin lines and raining down death from above with blasts of convexity, bursts of shadow fire, poison bombs and even concentrated jets of wind that she used to propel grublins on the front lines back into the army at breakneck speeds, which usually resulted in the living projectile getting impaled on the weapons of its comrades after leaving a line of injured or dead grublins in its wake. After every successful attack run Cynder would look around and feel a small swell of hope when she saw that more and more guards were joining the battle, blasting away at the seemingly unending flow of grublin forces with fire, ice, electricity and earth. The grublins on the ground were next to helpless as the dragons pounded their ranks from above, able to retaliate only with arrows. A few unfortunate dragons were unable to avoid the occasional volleys and were brought crashing down to the earth, either dead or soon to be, but most were able to avoid the attacks and fought with a ferocity that could only come from a dragon defending their home, fighting without regard for their own lives if it meant that their fellow citizens might have a chance to escape.

It was then that she noticed something strange. As she paused momentarily in the air to look to the north, hoping to see how the evacuations were proceeding, a sudden shriek from somewhere nearby startled her and caused her to whirl around to her left. Her eyes went wide with fear when she saw a flying grublin bearing down on her. It was moving so fast that Cynder had no chance to defend herself against it, caught by surprise as she was, but then the strangest thing occurred. As it drew near to her and was just about to deliver a crippling blow with its hardened club, it suddenly hesitated and instead came to a hover just a few feet away from her, gazing at her uncertainly. Stunned by this development and thoroughly puzzled, Cynder scrutinized the creature and saw that it had an expression of similar confusion on its own features, almost as if it didn't know whether or not it should actually attack her. She then noticed a number of other flying grublins not far behind the first, but they too were just hovering there staring at her with their confused looks.

Shaking off her surprise, Cynder spat out a glob of poison that struck the nearby grublin in the centre of its chest and caused its body to melt away almost instantly. Immediately the other grublins around her scattered, electing to retreat even though in her moment of distraction they had managed to completely surround her.

_What in the name of the Ancestors is happening?_ she thought in bewilderment, glancing around.

It was then that she finally noticed that, for some reason that she couldn't fathom, all of the grublins in sight seemed to be purposely avoiding engaging with her in any way. They didn't show the slightest hesitation to throw themselves at any of the other dragons, engaging in even the most suicidal attacks in the attempt to bring their foes down, but with her they hardly even lifted their weapons in her direction. Even the archers avoided her—aside from the occasional stray arrow, all of the volleys were directed well away from her.

_They're trying _not_ to hit me_, she realized in shock. _But why?_

Though she wasn't normally one for pride, in this instance she liked to think that she was one of the greater threats to the grublins on the battlefield. Her convexity breath was a devastating weapon, after all, and had accounted for the deaths of well over a hundred grublins already that day. Any field commander with even the tiniest inkling of sense in their brains would focus their efforts to bring her down before she was allowed to cripple their army any further, but the grublins were doing exactly the opposite, focussing on every dragon _but_ her.

Something definitely wasn't right.

"Cynder!" a familiar voice called suddenly, and she shook her head to clear it and turned around in the air to see Gelus racing toward her, panting breathlessly. "The barriers are all in place."

At that same moment the earth dragon guard arrived, bearing a rather painful-looking gash along a large portion of his right foreleg but showing no sign of being slowed by the wound.

"All civilians are retreating to the northern edge of the city," he reported. "The Guard has managed to stall the enemy advance long enough to give them some breathing room, but we're taking heavy losses. I don't think we can hold this up much longer."

"Alright, retreat behind the barriers," Cynder ordered immediately. "Focus for now on keeping those flying grublins from rushing the citizens."

"But what about the city?" the earth dragon asked, sounding pained. "The citizens may make it out, but if we start falling back the city will surely be destroyed!"

"There's no helping that now," Cynder replied grimly. "We never had any chance of winning this battle. No, our only hope is to put some distance between ourselves and this army and make for Warfang. The citizens should be safe there."

The earth dragon's expression was pinched with tension and reluctance, but he nodded nonetheless and hurried off to relay her orders. Gelus waited expectantly.

"Come on," Cynder told him. "We've got a fighting retreat to begin."

Together the two dragons began back-flapping through the air, slowly giving ground to the advancing grublins as dragons all around them began retreating for the cover of the ice and earth barriers. It was extremely strenuous, hovering backward through the sky while facing their enemy at all times, but Cynder wasn't about to turn her back on her foes even with their unexplained reluctance to directly attack her. The situation was only made worse by the mixed feelings of anger and disgust that were swelling up within her with every flap of her wings she took; one of the few things she had retained from her years as the Terror of the Skies was her absolute _loathing_ of being forced to retreat from a battle. However there was no helping it, and ss they flew Cynder continued to fire out the occasional beams of convexity, Gelus raining down ice shards on their enemies at her side. Working together, they were able to hold off the grublins until they made it back to the barriers. Then, fighting off exhaustion, the two dragons turned about and raced through the sky to regroup with the rest of the Guard, who were gathering just a few hundred feet away to the north.

"Those barriers aren't going to hold those damned bugs for long," the earth dragon from before said grimly once they had joined up with the rest of the dragons. "And they won't do anything against the flying ones."

"They'll buy us some more breathing room, at least," Cynder replied. Then she raised her voice to be heard by all the gathered dragons. "Alright, fall back to the northern side of the city! We need to protect the citizens! Quickly!"

The guard dragons all nodded and raced off through the sky, pounding their wings as hard as they could to reach the citizens before the bulk of the flying grublins did. Cynder, however, lingered for a moment and looked back to the south, a feeling of numbness washing over her as she gazed upon the writhing sea of grublins that had overrun the southern quarter of the city by that point. Their chilling cries were almost deafening, and not since the battle at Warfang had she seen so many of the foul creatures in one place. At the sight of them all now, she was filled with an unshakable feeling of dread.

"Cynder, we have to go," Gelus said nervously from her side as a large group of the flying grublins surged forward. "Come on!"

Cynder nodded before turning and following after the ice dragon as he sped through the sky. She could see most of the guard dragons ahead, almost at the northern edge of the cavern where the last of the citizens were scrambling to get outside. A large number of flying grublins had already managed to break past the defensive line and were darting about in the air above the citizens, but the guard dragons already in the area were battling valiantly to keep them at bay. Cynder gave a startled gasp as the cavern was suddenly lit up by a blinding yellow light before an explosion of electric energy filled the air ahead, an electric dragon having unleashed his fury attack and completely frying an untold number of enemies in an instant. Then, only a minute later the two young dragons reached the gathering.

"They're almost all out," a guard dragon reported as they came in to land, glancing toward the crowded mass of dragons trying desperately to escape the cavern. The chaos here was almost to the same level as it had been on the front lines, terrified voices mixing together until they were indistinguishable one from another, the crying of hatchlings and dragonesses intermingling with screams of fear and moans of pain from the injured. It nearly tore Cynder's heart apart to see such a scene of despair and terror, and it only fuelled her burning anger toward the dark army that had managed to destroy the lives of so many in such a short time.

"Alright, try and direct them out as quickly as you can," Cynder said. "The grublins are probably past the barriers by now. We don't have much time."

The dragon nodded firmly before hurrying off to carry out her orders. Once he had gone Cynder spent a moment trying to regain her breath, the pitched battle having drained her of almost all her strength. Her wings ached and her lungs burned. On top of it all, during the fighting she had sustained several small scratches to go along with the gash on her shoulder and the stinging they caused was nearly overwhelming.

"Here they come!" a frantic voice called out suddenly.

_Oh, for the Ancestors' sake,_ Cynder moaned inwardly. _You've won already! Can't you just give us a break?_

Unfortunately, it seemed that no such break was forthcoming. Over the rooftops Cynder could soon make out the shapes of flying grublins rapidly approaching; hundreds of them. Clearly, they weren't about to let the citizens get away easily.

"Fall back and cover the citizens!" Cynder shouted to the guards. "I'll buy us a bit more time!"

Before any of the other dragons could inquire about what she was doing, Cynder leapt into the air and charged toward the attacking grublins, catching everyone—both dragon and grublin—thoroughly by surprise. Just as before when the grublins saw her they hesitated, but now Cynder wasn't going to waste time wondering what their reasons were. Instead she was going to make them regret their mistake dearly. When she was only a few dozen metres away from the grublin formation she drew to a hover, closed her eyes, and felt her wind powers surge within her. The pressure mounted for several long seconds before she tilted her head back in a roar and unleashed her fury attack.

The air around her body was instantly transformed into a miniature hurricane, the deadly swirling winds rapidly expanding outward until the windstorm covered an area several hundred feet across. The grublins squealed in terror as they were whipped away by the gale, tubling helplessly as they were thrown out of the sky to crash heavily into the walls of the buildings below with sickening crunches. A moment later the sky cleared, and Cynder was flying alone.

"Cynder, let's go!" Gelus shouted insistently from behind her, and blearily Cynder was aware of him rushing over to her side before he began dragging her through the air toward the cavern exit. It took an incredible force of will to keep her wings beating, the fury attack having drained her almost to the point of passing out from exhaustion, but somehow she found the strength to keep airborne. When they reached the tunnel entrance there were only two dragons remaining within the cavern, both of them guards and one of them the same earth dragon that had first supported her.

"Alright, let's get out of here!" the earth dragon exclaimed. "Hurry!"

Neither Cynder nor Gelus answered. Instead they merely rushed for the exit as quickly as their aching legs would carry them, Cynder forced to drape a wing over Gelus's shoulders for support. Just like on their way into the underground city they quickly found themselves getting caught up in the thick tangle of roots that choked the passageway, but they weren't delayed long before they felt themselves get roughly pushed from behind.

"Keep moving!" the earth dragon urged them, using his horns and wings to usher the two smaller dragons along. "They're coming!"

Finally, a few frantic seconds later, Cynder and Gelus broke free of the passageway and emerged in the open air outside. As soon as they were through they were met with the sight of roughly two hundred dragons gathered in a tight group in the plains, looking extremely fearful about being so exposed when they were used to living in the sheltered confines of the underground. Muffled whimpers of fear, pain and sorrow could still be heard rising up from amongst them, and Cynder felt her heart go out to them immediately; they had just lost everything in less than an hour. Their homes, their security, even their family members in many cases, just gone.

_Those filthy monsters!_ she raged in her mind. _Whoever ordered this attack is going to pay dearly for this!_

"Alright, seal the passage!" the earth dragon guard shouted a moment later once they were all well clear of the tunnel.

There was a loud crash and rumble as two earth dragons nearby smashed their forepaws against the ground, causing a ripple to shoot through the ground toward the tunnel entrance before several massive pillars of rock suddenly burst up from the earth inside the tunnel, shooting up one after another from floor to ceiling and crashing against each other until the entire passageway was entirely blocked off by the thick pillars. Now even an earth dragon would have an extremely hard time getting through.

"So what's your brilliant plan now?" a scathing voice said from behind Cynder and Gelus, and when they turned around Cynder felt her mood take a sour turn when she realized that the speaker was the chief city elder. "Our homes are lost to us, and that army will still be after us! Where do we go now?"

"Warfang," Cynder replied evenly, trying to keep her voice steady despite her exhaustion. "If we can make it to Warfang, we'll be safe within the city. We'll need to move quickly if we're going to stay ahead of the grublins, though."

"You want us to fly non-stop all the way to Warfang?" the elder exclaimed in what almost sounded like horror. "Are you out of your mind? We're loaded down with wounded! They'll never make the journey if they don't receive attention. You'd be giving them a death sentence!"

"If we can find any red spirit gems along the way, we'll stop to treat the wounded," Cynder replied. "But if we don't leave now many more will die. We don't have a choice."

"There are a couple of spirit gem clusters a few miles to the south-west," the earth dragon guard offered, glancing between Cynder and the elder. "We can collect some fragments there and treat the wounded as we fly."

"Well, problem solved," Gelus said.

"Alright, let's get moving," Cynder called out to the assembled dragons. "We make for Warfang at the best speed we can manage! Let's move!"

"Now see here!" the chief elder exclaimed indignantly. "Taking command in a battle is one thing, but I won't stand to have you ordering all of our citizens around! We—"

"Actually, I think most of us are with her on this one," the earth dragon interjected, glancing around at the dragons who were quickly making ready to take to the air, clearly eager to put as much distance between them and the grublins as possible without any further delay.

With that he hurried off to assemble the rest of the Guard and organize them into a defensive formation for the citizens. Cynder and Gelus quickly moved off as well, Cynder hiding a triumphant smirk but also noticing the way the chief elder watcher her depart with a seething glare on his features. She had a sneaking feeling that her troubles with him weren't over yet.

She pushed these thoughts from her mind, however, when she forced her stiff wings to open and beat at her command, lurching into the air and trying to pick up enough speed to make it to the head of the formation, where the earth dragon guard was already directing the dragons from the city toward the south-west in the direction of the spirit gems. When she and Gelus finally reached the front she heaved an exhausted groan.

"Are you alright?" Gelus asked worriedly, glancing over at her. "You were really going at it in there."

"I'm fine," Cynder replied weakly, trying to give a reassuring smile. "I just need some more time to catch my breath..."

"There should be some green spirit gems at the clusters," the earth dragon said reassuringly. "You can recover your strength once we get there."

Cynder nodded her head, thinking that that sounded like a wonderful idea. She just secretly hoped that she could keep her wings working long enough to get there. After forcing the decision to set off for Warfang immediately, it wouldn't do for her to be the one to slow everyone else down.

By sheer strength of will alone, Cynder forced herself to keep flapping at the very front of the formation, holding her head high and trying to appear strong for the rest of the frightened dragons. They had suffered a terrible loss that day. These dragons had lost the only safe haven they had known for years, and Cynder was filled with her own worries.

Why had the grublins been so hesitant to attack her? Why had they attacked the city at all? And if the last reports from only days ago had stated that there had only been scattered sightings of grublins in the area, where had that army come from? Things just weren't adding up, and her instincts told her that their troubles were only beginning.

But, she reminded herself, at least they were alive, and when she looked back at the hill fading away into the distance she could see no sign of the grublins giving chase for the moment. For the time being they were safe, and most of the residents of the city had managed to escape the danger with them.

As long as they reached Warfang without having to deal with any more run-ins with those dark creatures, that was good enough for her.

She only hoped they would be so fortunate.

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><p><strong>Alrighty, another chapter down, another battle finished. We've gotten into the point in the story where the pace of the action really picks up, so expect more action scenes fairly often (goody!)<strong>

**And before anyone calls me out on this: Yes, I do realize that the name I chose for my OC Flash (the dragon) is the same name as Spyro's adoptive father Flash (the dragonfly), who we saw in this chapter. It wasn't intentional, but I thought the name just fit for Flash (the dragon) and I didn't want to change it by the time I realized the conflict, so it stayed. Will this be a source of confusion later? Maybe. Do I care? Not in the slightest. X)**

**Anyway, that's all for now. Until next time...**


	16. Chapter 15

__**Okay, for some reason that I can't explain this chapter was a lot more difficult to write than I thought it was going to be. Writer's block hit me _hard_ on this one, and as a result this chapter ended up being a fair bit shorter than my usual. I just hope that it doesn't come across as forced, because that's how it felt sometimes while I was writing it.**

**Anyway, hope you like it.**

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><p><em><span>Chapter 15:<span>_

Hunter felt his breath catch suddenly as the stone that he had just gripped with his right paw came loose, causing him to lurch downward alarmingly before he caught himself with his other paw, looking down over his shoulder as the stone tumbled away into the churning sea far below. Taking a deep, long breath to steady his nerves, he began searching for another handhold.

"Are you alright?" Faren called out as she hovered a few feet away, watching the cheetah's progress anxiously.

"Yes, I am fine," Hunter replied with a nod. "However, I thought you said that you were leading me to a _trail_ into the city. This does not seem like a trail."

"Sorry," Faren said nervously. "I forgot about this part."

Hunter grunted before finding a firm purchase for his right paw, and once he was certain that this small ridge in the rock would hold his weight he shifted his weight over and quickly moved his feet to new footholds, following with his left paw.

He was currently dangling a couple of hundred feet up a sheer cliff that dropped away into the sea on the southern side of the mountain the two travellers had reached earlier, on the far side of which a grublin army was still encamped. Shortly after passing around onto the southern side of the mountain Faren had pointed out the narrow, winding trail that would eventually lead them to the eastern city's secondary gate that overlooked the sea. However, what she had failed to mention was that the trail ended abruptly when the base of the mountain met the seaside cliffs.

Hunter supposed that it wasn't actually all that surprising that she had forgotten. After all, a dragon didn't really have need of a trail, did they? Even if they did elect to follow the trail on land, when they reached the cliff they could just easily glide down to where the trail resumed along the cliff face about fifty feet to the east east and below the point where the original trail fell away.

Hunter, on the other hand, was forced to climb, and given that the face of the cliff was left constantly wet by the spray of the ocean, it was a difficult climb indeed. Even despite his considerable agility and prowess he had nearly slipped twice.

A couple of minutes later he had nearly reached the narrow ledge that marked the beginning of the next section of the trail, but it was at that moment that he ran into an unexpected snag. The ledge was little more than six feet away from him, but the cliff face between him and the trail had become a solid slab of sheer, smooth stone. There was absolutely nothing that he could grip on to within reach. There was only one way that he could fathom to cross the gap, but he was reluctant to try it.

He would have to jump.

"Can you make it?" Faren asked anxiously, glancing between Hunter and the ledge with a doubtful expression.

Hunter inspected the width of the ledge sceptically, judging how difficult it would be to land on, and he wasn't particularly comforted by what he saw. The ledge was less than a foot wide, was sloped slightly downward away from the cliff face, and from where he was hanging Hunter could clearly see the shine of moisture on it, meaning that the rock would be slippery.

Still, he didn't have much in the way of choices. Groaning resignedly, he began to tense his body in preparation.

"Good luck," Faren said.

Hunter glanced over his shoulder toward the red dragoness and saw her watching him closely with a look of evident fear in her green eyes. He was hardly reassured by this, but nonetheless he nodded gratefully before turning his attention back to the ledge.

_Only one chance_, he thought grimly.

Tightening his grip on the rock, Hunter began leaning his body over to the left before swinging back to the right, but he didn't let go. Instead he repeated the process, swinging slightly farther this time but again maintaining his hold on the cliff as he swung to the right. He leaned over to the left once more, the farthest yet, then with a sharp throaty growl he threw himself to the right as hard as he could.

A weightless sensation came over him, and time seemed to slow to a crawl as he sailed through nothing but empty space. Before releasing his hold he had felt a strong swell of fear and trepidation at the thought of what he had been about to do, but now that the act was done his mind was focussed solely on the task of landing. He tried to ignore the crash of the waves below him and the salty spray that stung his eyes, blocking out everything but the ledge. It was rapidly drawing nearer—too rapidly, it seemed. He stretched out his legs, preparing himself to absorb the heavy shock of landing and praying to the Ancestors that his footing didn't fail.

The impact was even more jarring than he had expected, and Hunter grunted heavily as he felt the shock shooting up his legs and causing his knees to burn, but by some miracle he had managed to land exactly on target in the centre of the ledge. All he had to do now was catch his balance before—

He gasped in surprise and horror when his right foot suddenly slipped on the slick, wet rock ledge, and before he knew it he was once again falling through the air. A split second later he cried out in pain as his torso crashed into the outside of the ledge, badly bruising his ribs, and he scrambled desperately for a handhold before he could slip any farther.

"Hunter!" Faren cried.

Hunter soon found a purchase with the claws of his left paw against a lip in the rock, but the surface was too slick. He could feel his grip failing rapidly, and despite his best efforts he was slowly slipping downward. He tried frantically to find a grip with his feet, but there was nothing. At that moment his claws suddenly slipped off the rock.

In a final desperate act, just before he fell to his death Hunter was somehow able to grab his dagger from his belt and smashed it down against the top of the ledge, and by some unfathomable chance it struck a crack in the stone and became lodged in place. Hunter's shoulder was wrenched painfully as his fall was brought to a sudden stop, but he managed to keep his grip. A moment later the cheetah expelled an enormous sigh and clutched at his chest with his free paw, feeling how his heart was pounding against his ribcage.

"Are you alright?" Faren demanded, flying down to his side and looking him over for injuries.

"Yes, I think so," Hunter replied, somewhat breathlessly.

"Can you get up?"

Hunter paused for a moment and looked up at the ledge above him, noting with a frown the distinct lack of any good handholds along its edge. Still, he reached up with his left paw and tried to find a grip, but when he started pulling himself up his paw slipped and he fell back down with a frustrated grunt.

"It is no use," he sighed tensely. "The rock is too slippery."

"Um..." Faren said quietly, looking about anxiously for some means for Hunter to escape his predicament. "Okay, just hang on. I'll try and help."

She flew down closer to his side, coming so close that Hunter could feel short gusts of air buffeting his side from her rapid wing beats as she examined the situation more closely. Then, with an uncertain air about her motions, she reached out with her forepaws and gripped Hunter under his right shoulder.

"Okay, I think I can lift from here," she told him.

"Alright," Hunter nodded. "Together."

Reaching up with his left paw he once again gripped the slippery stone ledge and began pulling up with all his might. This time, with Faren lifting as well, he was able to keep his grip from slipping and slowly but surely his body was raised higher and higher. The effort required was still enormous, however, due to the slippery surface and the awkward angle at which his right arm was bent, and he could tell that Faren was doing little better; her wing beats had reached a furious pace and the strain was evident in her expression, with her jaw grit and her eyes tightly shut.

"Almost there," he grunted after a minute of struggling, and a moment later he quickly shifted his left arm so that the forearm was lying flat against the top of the ledge. From that point on the going was considerably easier, and within moments Hunter and Faren had managed to get Hunter's chest up past the ledge, then his stomach, then his hips. Hunter paused for a moment as he brought up one of his feet and gripped the stone. Then, with one final heave, Hunter was able to hoist himself up onto the top of the ledge with Faren's assistance and immediately sank into a seated position with his back pressed against the cliff face, panting from the exertion and the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins. Faren, meanwhile, was forced to continue hovering since there wasn't enough room on the ledge for her to land yet.

"Thank you," Hunter said a minute later once he had regained his breath.

"Are you okay to keep going?"

Hunter nodded. "There isn't much of a choice now, but yes, I can continue. How much farther until we reach the city?"

"Not too much farther," Faren replied. "It's just around that bend over there."

She pointed with a paw and Hunter looked over to his left to see a sharp bend in the cliff face a fair distance away, with nothing but the sea visible beyond it. It looked like quite a distance to cover, but now was no time for complaining. The day was passing them by, and he didn't want to think about what might happen if he wasn't off of this trail by the time night fell. With extreme care about his motions, Hunter pushed himself back up to his feet while keeping his left paw gripped firmly on the rock wall beside him.

Without another word the pair set off once again, Faren keeping an extremely close watch on Hunter as he carefully picked his way along the ledge for the slightest indication that he was about to fall. Fortunately he didn't slip again, and soon enough the ledge began to widen and level off until it was far easier to walk along it. Eventually the ledge had widened to about three feet in width, and at this time Faren quickly hovered down toward it before nimbly gripping the edge of the rock with her talons and scrambling up onto the ledge, eager for the chance to rest her wings from the constant hovering. From that point on she followed right on Hunter's tail as he quickly made his way along the winding trail, drawing ever closer to the bend and the unseen city beyond it. Finally, just as the sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon, they reached the bend and Hunter felt a large swell of relief when he saw their destination come into view ahead.

The city was of moderate size, and Hunter estimated that it could probably hold up to between four and five hundred dragons if fully populated. Like Warfang, the city had a stone wall surrounding it to defend against invasion by ground forces, but that was where the resemblance ceased. The buildings within the city were of much simpler construction than those within Warfang that had been built by the skilled paws of the moles. This city looked more like it had been thrown together in a hurry, serving to illustrate its background as a refugee centre in a time of great conflict when a shelter was desperately needed, and quickly. This overall feeling carried over into the surrounding land as well; jagged cliffs surrounded the city on all sides, leaving it wedged between the mountain on the west, the sea to the south, and a sheer cliff on the north atop which began the thick forest that continued northward where it eventually merged into the swamp. This was a location chosen for its seclusion and sheltered position. From where he stood Hunter could see the inside opening of the narrow pass that was the only way out of the city by land, on the other side of which the grublins were waiting.

"We should hurry," Hunter declared after a minute of silent observation of the city. "I am certain that the dragons here are aware of the grublins' presence beyond the pass, but on the off chance that they aren't we should hurry to warn them."

Faren nodded anxiously in agreement and together the two of them set off at a slightly more hurried pace. It took them ten more minutes to reach the end of the trail, which opened out onto the rocky seaside plateau upon which the city was constructed. After that Faren took the lead and guided Hunter around toward the southern side of the wall and up to the small back gate of the city. Almost immediately an electricity dragon guard appeared on the wall above them, wearing a set of heavy but worn silver armour.

"Who goes there?" he called in a challenging tone. "Identify yourselves immediately!"

"I am Hunter of Avalar," Hunter called back calmly, gazing up at the guard. "I am a friend of the guardians, and have come here seeking information on their behalf."

The guard paused for a moment in consideration at these words, appearing slightly less wary of the two travellers but not yet convinced. He turned his gaze on Faren.

"And you?" he asked. "Where are you..." He trailed off suddenly, leaning down to look more closely at the dragoness, and a moment later his eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Faren?"

Faren nodded quickly. Immediately the guard straightened and glanced back toward the interior of the wall.

"Let them in!" he ordered.

Almost immediately there was a low grinding sound and the heavy stone gate before them began slowly swinging inward. Hunter noticed with interest that the gate's progress seemed slightly unsteady, and he could hear the hinges straining as the gate creaked open at a sluggish pace. Obviously this gate was hardly ever used if the hinges had been allowed to seize up like this, but then again this wasn't entirely surprising; this was a dragon city, after all. They didn't even need to use gates.

Finally, almost a full minute later, the gate settled in its open position and the guard leapt down from the wall, landing heavily on the stone ground in front of them and quickly moving up to address Faren.

"I have to say it's a surprise to see you back here," the electricity dragon said. "Your father made it sound as if you and your brother would be living in Warfang for a long time to come. If I may ask, what brings you back here so soon?"

"We need to speak with my father," Faren replied shyly.

The guard grunted and gave a small nod. "Alright. You may both enter." Then he glanced around uneasily before adding, "Quickly. It isn't safe out here."

The guard hurriedly turned around and entered back through the gate and Hunter exchanged a mildly puzzled glance with Faren before following after him. Once they were through the gate two other guards hurried to push it closed again before locking it securely shut and returning to their posts.

"This way," the electricity dragon called from farther ahead, grabbing Hunter's attention once again. "I'll take you to your father."

Faren nodded and picked up the pace to catch up with the other dragon. Hunter followed as well, though he was in slightly less of a rush than the young dragoness was. As he walked he was continuously studying his surroundings, taking note of the general state of the city and the dragons within it. There was a clear sense of tension in the air, he noticed quickly, and it hadn't just been the guard that seemed on edge. Most of the dragons that they encountered in the streets were other guard dragons, with very few actual civilians in sight. They were all heavily armoured, and the tension in their bodies was plain to see, as if they were expecting some kind of disaster to strike at any moment.

It took them several minutes, but eventually the group of three had traversed most of the city and were approaching its north-western edge, where the main gate was located. When they got there they entered into a large courtyard which was nearly packed with dragons moving about. Hunter was surprised when he realized that these dragons were busy barricading the city's main gate, bracing large, reinforced wooden beams against the inside of the gate before they were locked in place in the ground by earth dragons. It looked as if the citizens were preparing for a massive assault on their homes.

"Elder Tythos, sir," the electricity dragon called out suddenly, drawing to a halt near the back edge of the courtyard.

A large, bulky orange-red fire dragon with a smoky-grey chest, wings, and horns and a bright white crest atop his head, who until that point had been engaged in conversation with an ice dragon guard, turned around quickly at the call and fixed the electricity dragon with a quizzical gaze, a thick brow-ridge arched inquiringly.

"Yes?"

"Your daughter is here to see you, sir," the guard replied, motioning with a wing to the two visitors.

The fire dragon's eyes widened considerably at those words, and he snapped his gaze around to where the guard indicated, his eyes locking onto Faren in only seconds.

"Faren?" he exclaimed in surprise, quickly striding over until he was standing just in front of his daughter. "What are doing back here so soon? Was there some kind of trouble in Warfang?"

Faren shook her head, tilting her head far back so that she could meet the gaze of the elder dragon that towered over her head. "No, father. The guardians sent me."

"The guardians?" Tythos repeated, surprised by his daughter's answer. "What for?"

Faren hesitated, apparently uncertain about how to go about answering that question, and she glanced toward Hunter for assistance. Seeing her struggle, Hunter quickly stepped forward, catching the elder's eye.

"The last report we received at Warfang indicated that there had been scattered grublin sightings around all three of the outlying dragon settlements," he explained. "The guardians immediately sent us to investigate in the hopes of learning more about these sightings and the extent of the potential threat."

"Did they now?" Tythos said, a note of interest in his strong voice as he gazed curiously at the cheetah. "And if I might ask, who are you? A friend of my daughter?"

"An acquaintance, I would be more inclined to say," Hunter replied. "My name is Hunter of Avalar, and I have been a friend of the guardians for several years. I was in Warfang when your son and daughter arrived, and have had the chance to get to know them a bit since their arrival."

"He came to make sure I was safe on the way here," Faren added.

"I see," Tythos grunted with a nod. "So you're both here in regards to the grublins? Very well. Come with me; let's head somewhere quieter where we can talk, and then I'll tell you what you want to know."

The bright orange-red dragon turned quickly to his left and strode off down the main street that led toward the centre of the city, Faren trailing along right behind him. Hunter hung back for just a moment longer, casting a final suspicious glance at the chaotic activity in the courtyard before hastening after the two fire dragons. As they walked Hunter could hear the chief elder engaging in the occasional conversation with his daughter, asking how life was in Warfang, what the state of the city was and how her brother's training was going, and she would always answer in one or two-word sentences, hardly ever meeting her father's gaze. This confused Hunter; the young dragoness seemed almost intimidated by her own father, and he began to wonder what could be the reason behind this. He resolved to ask Sirius about it when they returned to Warfang.

Eventually Tythos had led his daughter and her cheetah companion to a small tower in the very centre of the city. The first level of the structure was broad and square-shaped, looking as though it was large enough to hold five or six fairly large rooms within it. Then, from the centre of this first level, a round tower protruded straight upward before widening into what almost looked like a kind of observatory level. This level was divided into four sections, one sticking out from the tower facing north, another east, and others to the west and south. Bedrooms, maybe?

Hunter didn't have any longer to wonder, because without pause Tythos led them inside the building. They moved through the entry hall so quickly that Hunter barely had a chance to look around, but he did still glimpse a couple of the rooms that branched off from the hall and realized that they looked to be some sort of conference chambers, perhaps for the elders of the city to discuss official matters. They then reached a staircase that led up into the tower, and after a winding climb that lasted several minutes they emerged in the building's upper level. Tythos turned toward the door of the northern room and opened it, then stood aside and motioned with a wing for Hunter and Faren to enter.

Once inside, the cheetah's initial suspicion was proved true; it was definitely a bedroom, of moderate size and very simple arrangement. The only thing of real interest that Hunter saw was the fact that the room wasn't set up for just one resident. There was one large pile of red cushions in the back corner just beside the window which was clearly meant for Tythos, but on the other side of the window a curtain ran along a track on the ceiling that partitioned off the other half of the room. On this side Hunter could see two smaller piles of cushions, as well as a small assortment of belongings that were clearly not the elders. Eventually he came to the conclusion that Sirius and Faren had both also shared this room, and he was surprised that the chief elder of the city wasn't provided with a larger home for his family. Of course, he supposed that it may have simply been by choice, and that the entire family had preferred to remain close together after the traumas they had endured...

"You may make yourself comfortable," Tythos said to Hunter as he entered behind the other two, motioning with a wing toward the room to indicate that Hunter was free to find a seat anywhere he wanted.

After looking around briefly, Hunter elected to remain standing and simply leaned lightly against a shelf against the southern wall of the room while Faren quickly made for her pile of cushions and sat down in the very centre of them, appearing somewhat tense with her tail curled tightly around her paws. Tythos also headed for his cushions, though with a less hurried pace than his daughter, and he took his time finding a comfortable position before finally addressing the two visitors.

"So, down to business I suppose," he grunted. "I take it that you both arrived through the city's secondary gate."

Hunter and Faren both nodded.

"I figured as much. I assume, then, that this mean you saw the army that has made camp outside the pass."

"You know of their presence, then," Hunter said, not as a question but as if pointing out a fact, and Tythos nodded.

"Indeed we do. They made their presence known just before midday yesterday. That's when one of our patrols in the mountain spotted them coming out of the forest to the north and beginning to make camp. At first we thought it was only a small force, so we sent a dozen dragons out in force to try and drive them out. Needless to say they failed, but fortunately they had the sense to retreat when they realized that the enemy was far stronger than we had initially believed and none of them were killed.

"That is good news," Hunter commented.

"Yes, well, I'm afraid that that's the end of the good news," Tythos sighed. "Ever since they established their camp the grublins have been trying as hard as they can to keep us sealed inside this city. Of course, with the sea to our south it's impossible for them to block us in completely, but any dragon that ventures beyond the walls of the city in any other direction are swiftly intercepted, and only about half of our scouts have returned alive."

A grim silence followed, and Hunter glanced toward Faren to see a fearful expression on her face at this news.

"Have the grublins made any kind of move against the city?" Hunter asked.

"One," Tythos nodded. "They attacked late last night. The reports were that their forces ranged somewhere in the low hundreds in number, mostly of the airborne variety. It seemed as though they were testing our defences, for they didn't remain for long after first contact. They managed to do some damage, still. Two dozen were wounded, another handful killed, and some small fires were set in different parts of the city before the grublins were forced to retreat. We believe that the main assault won't be much longer in coming now."

"And yet you remain," Hunter pointed out.

"What are you suggesting?" Tythos replied, his expression clouding. "That we abandon our homes because of those creatures? Yes, it would be easy enough to evacuate out over the sea and make for Warfang or some other defendable position, but to do so without even attempting to defend our homes would be unacceptable. Rest assured, we have no intention of dying here, but neither are we going to flee at the first sign of danger. We are not helpless."

Hunter merely nodded. In truth he had been expecting a response along those lines. Dragons were, after all, a rather proud race in his opinion, and very confident in their own abilities. He would probably have been far more surprised if Tythos actually _had_ said that they would evacuate rather than fight. Still, he frowned slightly as a new thought came to him.

"And what of those that can't fight?" he asked. "The young, for instance. You would have them remain during the invasion? You could send them to Warfang while the Guard remains to fight."

"We could, but there is no guarantee that their journey would be safe, is there? We would have to send some of our forces with them for protection, which would weaken our position here too much. No, as I've said, we will evacuate if the situation becomes too dire, and in fact as we speak those who can't fight are gathering at the southern side of the city, ready to depart if the need arises. The situation is in hand."

Hunter nodded again, seeing that clearly the city's inhabitants were well prepared for what was to come. "Then I would like to offer whatever assistance I can."

Tythos looked surprised by this, and for a moment he sat scrutinizing Hunter uncertainly as if debating what help a single cheetah could be in the face of an army of thousands, but eventually he gave a small shrug.

"Your help would be appreciated, of course, but are you certain?"

Hunter nodded firmly. "I am not going to desert a city in danger when I can aid in its defence. I will stay."

The first hints of a grateful smile appeared at the corner of Tythos's muzzle, but the look was replaced by an expression of surprise when a small voice spoke up.

"Me too."

Hunter and Tythos both snapped their heads around to direct surprised gazes at Faren, who was looking extremely nervous in her corner, pawing at her cushions anxiously with her eyes cast downward. It looked almost as if she hadn't meant to speak and was regretting that she had.

"What?" Tythos said finally, shock clear in his voice.

Faren hesitated for a long moment before muttering, "I...I want to help."

Tythos looked as though he didn't know what to say, caught completely off guard by his daughter's words. Finally he shook his head sharply to clear it before speaking up again.

"Faren, I don't think that's a good idea," he said firmly. "You're far too young to be participating in a battle like the one we are likely to endure. If anything you should be well away from this city before the grublins make their attack."

Faren looked up with shock clear in her eyes, and some hurt as well. Hunter was surprised by how strongly she seemed to want to help when all he had seen from her up to that point was shyness and uncertainty. It was clear enough from the beginning that she had a good heart, but strong wouldn't have been one of the words he would use to describe her.

"In fact, it is probably best if you returned to Warfang now before the grublins close in any further," Tythos continued. "Someone needs to inform the guardians of our situation, anyway."

"But...but I want to stay here," Faren protested weakly. "I can help."

"You can help by informing the guardians. Any reinforcements they can send would be of great help to us, and I don't want you in this city in the attack. It would be too dangerous."

The concern in his voice was sincere, but the commanding edge in his tone overrode it entirely and only left Faren looking more hurt than before. However, Hunter realized that there was something the elder wasn't considering and he intervened in the dragoness's behalf.

"Didn't you say that it would be too dangerous to send anyone out of the city without significant protection?" he inquired. "I know that I cannot go with her if she returns to Warfang; my only way out is through the pass, which the grublins have blocked. Are you willing to spare any of your Guard forces to accompany her when you yourself say that you cannot afford to lose them for the defence of the city?"

Tythos scowled when he realized that Hunter had a strong point, and for several seconds he sat in brooding silence as he grappled between logic and his feelings. Finally he gave a defeated sigh before turning a reluctant gaze toward his daughter.

"I suppose there's no helping it, then. Very well, you will stay. I'll have preparations made for you to be moved to the southern side of the city with the rest of the non-combatants where it should be safe."

"What?" Faren squeaked in surprise. "But father, I—"

"That's enough, Faren," Tythos said firmly. "My decision is made."

The slim red dragoness gave a subdued sigh and lowered her gaze, looking deflated. Hunter felt a pang of sympathy for her predicament; there she was, ready for a chance to prove herself and fight for the defence of her home, and her father wouldn't allow it. Still, he had to admit that in this matter he was more or less on Tythos's side. He simply couldn't see a battle going well for Faren, even if he wasn't one to regularly undervalue the strength of young dragons.

"I suppose that's settled, then," Tythos declared. He turned to Hunter. "I would like you to come with me. Let's see if we can't find somewhere for you in the coming battle."

Hunter nodded his head as the elder rose to his feet and began moving for the door. Glumly, Faren likewise stood and followed her father, her gaze still downcast. Hunter lingered back for just a moment in contemplation before turning and following the two dragons back out of the building and into the busy streets of a city preparing for an impending assault. As soon as they were out in the open Hunter thrust a forearm up into the air, and only a moment later a distant screech reached his ears before, in a blur of dark feathers, his falcon dove out of the clouds to alight on his forearm, fixing its gaze upon him with its intelligent eyes.

"Fly to the guardians and tell them that the eastern city is under threat by a grublin army. Tell them to send whatever assistance they can as soon as possible."

The falcon gave a sharp chirp as a kind of acknowledgement before taking to the skies once again, angling to the south-west to pass behind the mountain, speeding off into the distance before fading from sight. Once certain that his feathered companion was away safely Hunter turned back to the two fire dragons, where he saw Tythos speaking to an earth dragon guard.

"Bring my daughter to the southern shelter," the elder instructed. "And see to it that she is safe and comfortable."

"Yes, elder Tythos," the guard said with a sharp nod before turning to face Faren. "This way please, young miss."

Faren gave a small sigh but nodded and began following as the guard turned southward down the street. Just before leaving she shot Hunter a final glance over her shoulder with a dejected expression, and Hunter could only give a comforting wave in reply. Soon after, she was gone.

"Alright, that's all taken care of then," Tythos grunted, stepping up to Hunter's side as he watched his daughter's departure. "And I noticed that you sent word to Warfang. That is most appreciated. One less thing to worry about."

"I'm glad that I could help," Hunter replied.

Tythos gave an approving nod before turning northward. "Come, let's see to figuring out where best to put you for the battle. I'm afraid we don't have anything in the way of equipment for cheetahs in our city, but we should find somewhere advantageous to employ you nonetheless."

Hunter nodded in agreement and followed the large fire dragon as he turned northward and began making his way through the streets toward the northern courtyard to resume overseeing the preparations.

The couple of hours left before nightfall passed in a flurry of activity. By the time the sun disappeared behind the mountain the main gate had been completely barricaded and the same had been done for the southern gate. Hunter spent the rest of the evening helping the dragons roll out their heavy defences, including a group of large, simply-constructed catapults that were deployed along the edges of the northern courtyard. They were nowhere near as finely crafted as the defences of Warfang, Hunter noted, but they were certainly sturdy and looked as if they could be relied on to get the job done. With that completed, attention turned to organizing the defenders themselves, those dragons that weren't already in armour hurrying to get some and the Guard falling into ranks along the wall. Hunter was led to a position on the ramparts just to the left of the main gate where he had a clear range of fire for his bow. From then on, all that was left to do was wait.

Minutes turned to hours. Day turned to night that was devoid of the normal illumination of the moon and stars as the clouds overhead continued to increase in volume. It felt as if a storm was in the air, and Hunter found himself hoping that he was wrong and that he wouldn't have to get caught out in the open when a downpour began. Still, there was nothing he could do to change the weather, and resignedly he returned his attention to the dark plateau beyond the wall, waiting in silence.

"I see something!" a dragon nearby called out a few minutes later, and Hunter looked to see him pointing with a wing toward the pass at the far end of the enclosed plateau. "Torches!"

Hunter looked as well, and sure enough the glow of torches could be seen radiating out from the pass, casting the dark stone walls in an orange glow. In the light that the torches provided, Hunter could see the mass of grublin bodies marching forward. There seemed to be no end of them as they continued to file out of the pass and spread out into a broad front, taking up all available space within the plateau while still keeping out of range of the city's defences.

"There's so many of them," one of the dragon guards gasped in dismay.

"Stand firm," another earth dragon of higher rank called out, his voice steady as the element he controlled. "So long as we keep our heads, there's nothing those creatures can do to overpower us here."

Still the grublins kept coming, steadily advancing toward the brightly-lit city that glowed like a beacon in the night. Hunter guessed that there must be somewhere in the range of three thousand already in the plateau, and more were coming. The chilling sound of their eager cries echoed across the stone cliff faces that surrounded them, the pounding of their feet on the rock creating an unnerving rhythm that continuously grew in volume. Then, finally, the end of the line of dark creatures appeared in the pass and the army stopped its advance. A deathly silence descended over the entire area like a heavy shroud as both sides glared at each other over the intervening space.

The siege of the eastern city had begun.

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><p><strong>Okay, so I don't know how long my next update will take. On the one hand, it's exam time and so for the next two weeks I'm going to be spending a lot of time studying, which could mean rather slow updating. However, on the other hand, exam time also mean that I'm not spending hours a day at schoolcommuting to school, which could lead to faster updating. I don't know. All I do know is that these next two weeks are not going to be fun for me.**

***sigh*...Studying...the bane of my existence...*groan***

**Anyway, not sure who the focus for the next chapter is going to be, but I CAN tell you that it WON'T be Spyro. I haven't left you hanging long enough concerning his fate yet. X)**

**So, wish me luck with exams! Until next time...**


	17. Chapter 16

**Okay, so it looks like my prediction was semi-right; studying does equal slower updating. I apologize for the longer-than-usual wait. I wrote when I could during study breaks, but you know how it is: exams before fun. *sigh***

**Anyway, at least you have a big chapter now to tide you over until the next update (which may very well be slower. Sorry)**

**Enjoy.**

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><p><em><span>Chapter 16:<span>_

Cynder gave a heavy groan of relief when she saw Warfang approaching ahead. She didn't think that she would have been able to fly much farther if their destination hadn't been in sight. The group of just over two hundred dragons had been flying nearly non-stop since abandoning the city to the north, pausing only for a short rest when night had fallen after the first full day of travel. Cynder knew for a fact that she had never done as much constant flying as she had over the last four days, and now her wings felt as if they were just about ready to fall off.

"I never thought I would be so glad to see home in my life," Gelus groaned from beside her, the pure relief evident in his voice as well. "But I don't know if I can make it. You might have to carry me the rest of the way."

Cynder snorted loudly. "Not on your life. If you fall now, don't look at me to catch you."

Gelus gave her a hurt look, which only caused her to laugh. Warfang was approaching rapidly now, and in only a few more minutes they would be upon it. Behind her, Cynder could hear relieved murmuring passing amongst the many dragons following her to the city, and it was obvious to her that they were extremely anxious to find themselves within the safety of a city once again. She couldn't even begin to imagine the uncertainty and fear that must have been plaguing them since losing their home, the only safe place they had known for years.

Finally, as they approached the outer wall of the city, Cynder began her descent and angled toward the central courtyard just outside the temple, deciding that it would be one of the few places in the city where two hundred dragons could land all at once and that it would be an ideal place to begin organizing where they would be accommodated for the duration of their stay. Just at that moment she noticed a figure take off from the wall, flying rapidly for the centre of the city, and she assumed that it was a guard that had noticed their approach and who had gone to inform the guardians.

_Good_, she thought. _That means I don't have to worry about this lot any longer_.

She was so exhausted that she didn't even know if she was physically capable of staying awake long enough to help get the new arrivals accommodated and the wounded tended to. While they had managed to find a healthy amount of red spirit gems at the gem clusters the head of the Guard had mentioned, there still hadn't been enough to fully heal all the wounded. Only the most life-threatening wounds had been treated and those wounds that prevented otherwise-healthy dragons from flying to lighten the load on others. Gelus had tried his best to acquire a gem fragment for Cynder's wound, but she had insisted that all the gems be saved for those who truly needed them. She was in no danger from what she considered nothing more than a scratch, and so she had refused treatment of any kind. Now, however, she was at least looking forward to the chance to get the dried blood cleaned off her scales so that she could be more comfortable.

_I must be quite the sight right now_, she thought wryly. _And here I was trying to build up a better reputation for myself, only to come back to Warfang all bloody. Yeah, that'll go a long way toward _that_ goal._

She didn't have any longer to ponder these thoughts, however, because just then the formation was beginning its approach on the temple grounds. Gratefully, Cynder locked her wings and glided down toward the courtyard, eager to take the weight of her body off of her aching wings. By this point it was obvious enough what their destined landing site was that the more fatigued dragons amongst the formation actually began pulling ahead to land ahead of the rest, desperate for a respite from the relentless flying. Just as Cynder came in to alight on the temple's top step beside the memorial sculpture for Ignitus, the guardians stepped out through the door.

"Cynder!" Terrador exclaimed when he caught sight of the exhausted dragoness ahead. "We weren't expecting your return for another day at least. What happened?" He then leaned closer, a look of concern on his strong features when he noticed the gash on her shoulder and the dried blood caked over the scales of her shoulder and foreleg. "You're injured."

"I'm fine," Cynder said quickly, waving a paw. "It's a scratch, that's all. But we do have wounded among us that need caring for."

Terrador nodded his head sharply and glanced back over his shoulder. "Cyril."

"Right away, Terrador," the ice dragon replied quickly before promptly striding out past his companions and toward the gathered refugees, raising his voice almost to a shout to be heard over the rumble of fearful conversation.

"Everyone, if I might have your attention please. If there are any among you in need of medical attention, I will lead you to the city's infirmary now. Come along, quickly now."

Several dragons from the crowd hurried to follow the ice guardian as he turned and began making his way toward the edge of the courtyard, either wounded themselves or carrying wounded on their backs, and in total their numbers accounted for nearly a quarter of the crowd. Terrador, meanwhile, turned toward Cynder again.

"You should go with them."

"No, Terrador, I'm fine," Cynder insisted. "Really. I've had much worse."

"Regardless, that wound has clearly not properly healed yet. You may succumb to infection if you leave it untreated."

Cynder frowned in consideration at these words, and she glanced toward the gash in her shoulder only to scowl in distaste when she saw the state of it. The constant exertion of flying had prevented it from completely scabbing over, and as a result it was still very slowly seeping blood from a couple of small breaks in the crusty covering; hardly any at all, but enough that it was still noticeable to anyone who looked hard enough.

"There are others who need treating far more than I do," Cynder said stubbornly at length. "The healers shouldn't be wasting red gems on me when others need them more."

"The city's store of red spirit gems is a healthy one, Cynder. There are more than enough available for all who need them."

"I don't care," Cynder growled, shaking her head sharply. "I don't like using up supplies when I don't feel like I need them. We have no way of knowing when those gems might be needed for some life-threatening situation, which mine isn't. I'll let it heal on its own."

Terrador heaved a long sigh as he gazed down upon the black dragoness and the look of firm determination in her eyes, realizing with a great deal of reluctance that this was an argument that he wasn't going to win. Finally, he relented.

"Alright, Cynder, I can see that your mind is made up," he said. "But at least allow us to call for a mole to have that wound properly cleaned and bound before there are any complications."

"Only if they're not needed elsewhere."

"Of course. Volteer, why don't you go down to the infirmary and see if there are any mole healers there that aren't urgently needed at the moment?"

"Oh, yes, I can certainly do that Terrador," Volteer exclaimed at his usual pace of speech. "Yes, if there are any moles who aren't presently occupied or engaged in any matters of the most urgent, pressing, critical, imperative importance then I will be sure to—"

"Yes, thank you Volteer," Terrador said with another heavy sigh. "Now if you don't mind, our young friend might appreciate a little more haste on your part, seeing as she's still bleeding."

Volteer nodded his head sharply and took off in the direction of the infirmary, muttering to himself all the while. Mercifully, he was out of earshot in only a couple of seconds.

"Cynder, I would like you to remain here at the temple until we have had a chance to sort out this commotion. I want to hear everything that happened while you were gone, and I'm sure Cyril and Volteer will as well. In the meantime, I'm going to start seeing to finding accommodations for our new arrivals. Gelus, perhaps you could assist me?"

Gelus nodded sharply and stood up as straight as he could manage. "Yes, sir."

"Thank you. Now, Cynder, you wouldn't happen to be able to point out the elders of this group, would you?"

Cynder nodded and turned her body slightly so that she could gaze out over the crowd. After only a moment she caught sight of the four elder dragons gathered together in a tight group off to the right of the temple steps, discussing quietly amongst themselves. The sight of the chief elder wind dragon was enough to send a swell of resentment though her being.

"There," she said simply, pointing a talon and scowling.

Terrador arched a brow-ridge suspiciously when he noticed the animosity in Cynder's expression, but he didn't press the matter. Instead he simply inclined his head and said, "Thank you," before striding off to introduce himself to the elders and attempt to organize with them what would be happening for their citizens. Gelus quickly followed after the earth guardian after pausing just long enough to shoot Cynder a small, friendly smile.

"Thank you for all your help," she said to him as he passed.

"Don't mention it; it was my pleasure," Gelus replied, inclining his head. "And good luck with that wound."

Cynder snorted and rolled her eyes, and Gelus grinned wider before picking up his pace to catch up with Terrador. Soon, Cynder was alone on the top step with only Sirius remaining behind, who had come out of the temple with the guardians.

"So I guess I'm the first one back," Cynder grunted, glancing around at the courtyard. "I was almost expecting Spyro to make it back before me. He didn't have quite as far to go, after all."

"Well, I don't think he would have been hurrying back quite as much as you obviously were," Sirius replied with a grin. "So, no, I'm sorry to say; he's not back yet." Just then, however, a look of clear worry came over his expression and he leaned forward to glance more closely at the gash on Cynder's shoulder. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," Cynder sighed with a small smile, grateful for Sirius's concern but growing slightly exasperated by all the fuss over a scratch. "Don't worry, it looks worse than it actually is. See? It's not even that big."

She used two of her talons to indicate the ends of the wound, which ended up being significantly shorter than the dried blood made it appear to be. Still, while Cynder considered it to be only small, Sirius looked more concerned—it was still long enough that he would need the full width of his paw to cover it.

"So I take it the grublins were a bit more of a problem than we thought they were going to be," he said after a small pause.

Cynder gave a bitter laugh. "It shows, does it? Ugh, I must be just lovely to look at right now." She glanced down at her various scratches along her body, and she scowled in disgust when she noticed the dark grublin blood that had dried all over her tail blade. "I swear, if I never see another grublin again it will still be too soon."

Sirius cracked a small grin, but quickly he looked away toward the east with a clouded expression. Cynder could easily see the unease in his bright red eyes, and it wasn't too hard for her to guess what the reason was.

"You're worried about Faren?" she asked.

Sirius sighed and nodded, turning to meet her gaze for only a brief moment.

"That's putting it mildly," he said with a strained-sounding chuckle. "It's just that we've never been away from each other for so long before. I was always right there in case something happened to her, but now..."

"Hey, don't worry," Cynder said reassuringly. "She's in good hands with Hunter. Spyro and I know from experience that he does a great job of looking out for others out in the wild. I'm sure she'll be fine."

"I know," Sirius said quickly. "As soon as I met him I got that impression from him. And Faren's stronger than she looks, too. It's just that, after seeing you come back here like this..." He sighed heavily and looked away again. "I don't know. I just know that I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something happened to her and I wasn't there to help her."

A long moment passed in silence between them, Sirius brooding over his concern for his sister and Cynder trying to come up with some means of reassuring him. Eventually, she spoke up in a gentle tone.

"She's lucky to have a brother who cares so much about her."

Sirius turned a grateful smile toward the black dragoness before once again looking away, giving a small, slow nod with a distant expression in his eyes.

"I sometimes think I try too hard to protect her," he said at length, and he gave a long sigh. "I always felt like it was my responsibility to look after her, that I had to make sure she was always alright. I always worked _so _hard to make sure she was safe, but sometimes I'm afraid that because of that I stopped her from being independent."

Cynder couldn't think of any kind of response, and in the end she could only watch the larger fire dragon with a guarded expression, surprised by what he was telling her. It was clear as day to her that he deeply cared for his sister, but now he was expressing remorse for how much he cared? She found that this was something she simply couldn't understand, having never known any family herself, and so all she could do was listen and allow the fire dragon to vent his feelings.

"I just can't help it, I guess," he continued. "I mean, sometimes I feel like I'm all that she has. Father cares for both of us, of course, but his methods...They just don't seem to be enough, sometimes. After we lost our mother it was easy for me to see that what Faren needed was comforting, to feel reassured that she wasn't going to be alone, but Father was so busy organizing the refugees that instead he started pushing responsibility on both of us, telling us that we had to be strong, that we had to just keep working and move ahead, and I don't think she was ready for it. So it would always fall to me to be her support, and ever since then I've always tried to shelter her."

He trailed off with another sigh, and this time Cynder felt like she couldn't just keep quiet. It was extremely troubling for her to see a companion struggling with this kind of doubt and worry, and slowly she reached up and rested a paw on his shoulder. When he felt the contact he looked down at her paw in surprise before turning a puzzled look in her direction.

"I'm sure she'll be fine," she said reassuringly. "Who know? Maybe this will be good for her, and when she gets back she might surprise you."

Sirius gave her another grateful smile.

"And besides, you can't blame yourself for wanting to protect her. I can't say from experience, but that seems to me like a normal thing for a brother to do. I'm sure your heart was in the right place."

These words seemed to help ease a great deal of the tension from the fire dragon's smile, and he gave a short, quiet chuckle to himself.

"Maybe my new training is just getting to me," he said at length. "Terrador and Cyril have been lecturing me constantly over the last couple of days about conscious leadership, being wary of how my actions will affect people around me, and how even well-intentioned misguided decisions can cause more damage than good. It's hard to get it out of my head sometimes."

Cynder grinned. "Sounds rough. They're working you pretty hard, are they?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Sirius groaned. "I'm still excited about being a guardian one day, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't having some second thoughts right about now."

Cynder chuckled and patted his shoulder once more before removing her paw. Just at that moment, though, Sirius looked up past Cynder with a slightly surprised expression, and Cynder turned around curiously to see a large green earth dragon wearing polished wooden armour slowly climbing the steps toward the two of them, moving with a slight limp because of the gash in his foreleg. Cynder immediately recognized the head of the northern city Guard.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly in his rumbling voice. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I had just wanted to extend to you my appreciation, Cynder, for what you have done for our citizens. If not for you, I doubt nearly as many of us would have survived the attack, and I'm sure I speak for many when I say that we are in your debt."

Cynder was stunned, and for several seconds she could only stare back at the dragon in surprise before finally shaking herself out of her daze and speaking.

"Thank you," she said with a smile, a swell of incredible gratitude filling her. "And thank you for supporting me back there. I hope it didn't get you into too much trouble."

As she said this she leaned over to glance past the earth dragon at the northern city elders, who had finished their discussion with Terrador and were now once again talking amongst themselves. Cynder immediately noticed the way the chief elder was shooting frequent glares in the direction of her and the guard.

"Don't you worry yourself over it," the earth dragon said with a deep chuckle. "I have no regrets for what I have done. I'm just glad that someone there actually had a plan in that mess, and that I was able to help. I already passed on my commendation of your actions to the guardian Terrador, since I got the suspicion that our chief elder might have tried to taint your actions with petty accusations."

"Thank you," Cynder said again, her smile growing.

"Perhaps we will get the opportunity to work together again some time," the earth dragon said, inclining his head as he turned to leave. "Then again, maybe it would be for the best if the necessity didn't arise for that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think it's about time I went to have this wound cleaned."

"Wait," Cynder called as he turned away. "I never got your name."

"Raulk," the earth dragon replied, inclining his head once more in farewell before beginning his descent of the temple steps and into the courtyard.

Cynder watched him leave with a mildly surreal feeling within her as she thought over the discussion she'd just had. It was such a refreshing experience to have someone that she had only just met judge her not on her past, but on what they had been able to see of her in the moment, and it brought within her a swell of happiness and relief. No matter what most others would continue to think of her, at least she could find comfort in the fact that there were those out there who were willing to see a better side of her and make her struggles to redeem herself worth it.

"A new friend?" Sirius asked curiously from behind her a moment later.

"Maybe," was Cynder's simple response.

Her attention was then grabbed when she noticed someone else approaching the steps, and when she turned her head to the left she saw Volteer returning to the temple along with Cyril, a small mole carrying some kind of bundle under his arm walking between them. They immediately headed toward Cynder, and once they had reached the top step the mole stepped up to the black dragoness and looked her over with a studying gaze.

"My, my, you managed to get yourself worked over pretty soundly, didn't you?" the small furry creature whistled a moment later. "And you're absolutely certain that you wouldn't rather—"

"Yes, I am," Cynder sighed exasperatedly. "Can we get this over with?"

"Of course," the mole nodded quickly. "Why don't we head inside and find somewhere to get to work?"

Cynder nodded in agreement, and together with the mole, Cyril and Volteer she entered the massive stone building. The two guardians took the lead and headed for the main assembly hall, apparently deciding to take this chance to begin discussing the circumstances of Cynder's return. Cynder quickly found a spot a short ways from the door while the three larger dragons found seats just a little farther into the room. The mole quickly set down his bundle by Cynder's side and began arranging his supplies, which included a couple of clean wash cloths, rolls of bandage wrapping, and a couple of herbs the black dragoness was unfamiliar with. Once this was finished, the mole looked up toward the guardians.

"There wouldn't happen to be anywhere nearby that I could get some water, would there?" he asked.

"Certainly," Cyril nodded. "Just down the hall, two doors on your left, there's a room with a large wash basin. Take what you need."

The mole bowed his head in thanks before hurrying off. Then, shortly after the small creature's departure, Terrador entered the room.

"Alright, we have members of the City Guard and moles directing the new arrivals to temporary quarters," he announced. "Everything seems to be going as smoothly as can be expected in a situation such as this, for which I'm thankful." He then hesitated for a moment, a small scowl settling over his features. "Well, for the most part."

"The elders?" Cynder guessed.

Terrador gave a gruff snort and nodded, his scowl darkening.

"I take it they aren't the most savoury lot," Cyril commented, a brow arched suspiciously.

"Most of them aren't actually that bad," Terrador admitted with a sigh. "But their leader..."

"I know," Cynder nodded. "Gelus and I didn't have the most pleasant meeting with him when we got to the city."

"It certainly makes it difficult to feel excited about meeting a living wind dragon when the first thing they do is go off on a rant about how appalled they are about the lack of organization and discipline amongst your city's ranks. He seemed to be of the impression that, for a city such as Warfang, we were woefully unprepared to handle their arrival and that the treatment his citizens were receiving was on a level with some kind of oppression, left to stand out in the night without any kind of accommodation or reassurance of their safety."

He gave a low, resentful growl, and Cynder found herself caught by surprise by the intensity of emotion she was seeing in the usually collected and level-headed guardian. The other guardians seemed caught off guard as well, and they exchanged quick glances.

"And of course he had a great deal to say about you, Cynder," Terrador continued with a distasteful tone. "By his account, you are guilty of orchestrating a coup and swiftly grabbing all power away from him and the other elders in some sort of hostile takeover."

"Well," Cynder said with a hesitant smirk, "I suppose that I sorta did..."

For the first time since entering the chamber, a small grin appeared on Terrador's muzzle and he chuckled. "Perhaps, but I find myself in the position of agreeing with your actions, and I expect that were I in your position I would have done the same thing for two reasons. The first of which is that we trust you and your judgement, and the second is that, from the account given to me by the northern city's Captain of the Guard, Raulk, had you not stepped in the chief elder would likely have simply sat by and let the city fall while he defended his own authority against you. You must be quite a leader if you inspired a dragon such as him to defy his superiors and throw in his support with you. I recognize his type, and they aren't ones to lightly throw aside their loyalties and oaths."

Cynder grinned broadly from the earth guardian's praise, and she noticed the other guardians nodding their heads in approval as well. Just at that moment, though, they were interrupted as the mole healer returned to the chamber carrying a small basin of clear water.

"Alright now, young lady," the mole grunted as he set the heavy basin down. "How about we get down to work here? Shall we start with that shoulder?"

Cynder nodded and shifted her wing so that her shoulder was unobstructed. The mole immediately set to work, soaking one of his cloths in the water before delicately wiping away the dried blood around the wound, carefully removing the scab so that he could properly clean out the gash and prevent it from becoming infected. Cynder winced frequently as he worked, jabs of pain shooting up from the tender gash as the mole put pressure on it, but she never complained; in her mind, it would gain her nothing to show weakness just because of a little pain. Instead she distracted herself by summarizing the events that had passed since leaving Warfang almost four full days ago, including the appearance of the grublin army and the evacuation of the city. The guardians listened in grim silence as she spoke, appearing greatly unsettled by the news of a large host of grublins attacking one of the cities in force.

"It can only mean bad things for our fellow dragons if the grublins are organized enough to launch that kind of offensive," Cyril muttered darkly once Cynder had finished speaking. "There must be some kind of objective behind their actions."

"And we have to consider the fact that the northern city isn't the only place where grublins were reported to have been seen," Terrador added, his expression grim. "The other two settlements may be under threat of similar assaults."

Cynder felt a rush of concern wash over her at the thought of the other cities falling under the same danger that had come to the city she had visited. An image of Spyro caught in front of an advancing army of thousands of grublins flashed in her mind, only increasing her fear and worry.

"Should we send more dragons to reinforce the other settlements?" she asked. "What about Faren and Hunter, and Sp-yro?"

Her last word came out as a pinched yelp, and Cynder immediately turned a glare on the mole healer who had just put pressure on a particularly sensitive part of her shoulder wound. The healer merely offered an apologetic shrug before resuming his work, spreading a thick brownish-green paste over the wound which he had made by mashing up the herbs he had brought along with him. The paste stung the open wound upon first contact, but almost immediately the pain was replaced by a dull, numb feeling that provided at least some relief.

"I don't think that we should rush to any conclusions just yet," Terrador said in response to Cynder's question. "As of right now there is nothing concrete to suggest that the attack on the northern city wasn't an isolated incident. However, we should still be ready to depart quickly in case of any other signs of trouble, and—"

The large green dragon was suddenly cut short as a shrill screech sounded just outside of the expansive stone chamber, and everyone present in the hall looked up toward the windows set in the top of the wall just in time to see a dark shape streak through one of them. The shape dove sharply down toward them before flaring its wings wide and landing lightly on the stone floor in the centre of the group.

"Isn't that Hunter's falcon?" Volteer said curiously, leaning closer to examine the bird.

"Indeed it is," Terrador nodded. Then, addressing the falcon, he said, "Does Hunter send a message?"

The falcon immediately began chirping and screeching in a rapid string of noises that Cynder found somewhat unpleasant, the falcon's harsh, shrill voice ringing in her ears. She couldn't understand what it might be saying, and Sirius looked just as puzzled, but the three other dragons had their full attention on the bird. Cynder then remembered the time, just after their escape from the catacombs of the Well of Souls, when Hunter had sent his falcon to inform Ignitus and the guardians that he had found the two lost dragons, and she assumed that the guardians had enough experience with the falcon to be able to understand it.

"What is it saying?" Sirius asked a moment later.

Terrador's expression was grim, and when he looked up to meet the fire dragon's gaze Cynder saw a dark look in his eyes that immediately made her uneasy.

"Hunter says that the eastern city is apparently in danger, and has become surrounded by a large grublin army. He is requesting that we send assistance as soon as we can."

"We have to go help them!" Sirius exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "If they're in danger, we have to go help them fight!"

"Indeed we do," Terrador nodded. "We will muster a division of the Guard and send them to assist immediately. Cyril."

Cyril nodded his head sharply before taking off running out of the chamber, disappearing into the corridor in only moments, the sound of his paws smacking against the stone fading rapidly into the distance.

"I'm going too," Sirius declared firmly. "I will protect my home."

"You forget your training, young dragon," Terrador said, his expression stern. "A guardian is expected to put their own feelings aside and judge a situation objectively, no matter the circumstances."

"But Faren's there! I can't just—"

Terrador held up a paw, cutting the other dragon short.

"However, in this case you happen to be correct."

Sirius blinked several times, a stunned expression on his face, and finally he managed to say, "I am?"

Terrador nodded. "The state of our race is still fragile, and having an entire city of survivors wiped out is something that we simply cannot allow to happen. As guardians, the defence of our race is one of our primary callings, and therefore you and I will be accompanying the division that we send to the city. You had best go prepare."

For several long seconds Sirius was too stunned to reply, just staring mutely at the much larger earth dragon. Then, finally, it seemed to register what he was being told and he immediately shook his head to clear it.

"O-of course, Master Terrador," he stammered. "Right away."

"We will meet in the central courtyard," Terrador called after the red dragon as he sprinted through the chamber door. A moment later only Cynder, the mole, and the two guardians remained.

"What about the other village?" Cynder asked anxiously. "Spyro might be in danger too!"

"I am aware of that," Terrador said quickly. He then turned to face the electricity guardian. "Volteer, I want you to organize a scouting party to head for the mountain village immediately. Keep it small; two or three dragons only. We want them to be able to move as fast as possible. They are to assess the state of the village, and if they see any signs at all of grublin activity they are to return here immediately so that we can return in force."

"Oh, yes, that's a marvellous, excellent idea Terrador," the yellow dragon exclaimed, nodding vigorously and rising to his feet to depart. "Right away."

"I'll go," Cynder added, rising to her feet and ignoring the mole healer's exclamation of protest.

"No," Terrador said immediately. "You are in no state to venture out from this city again so soon. You are exhausted and wounded, and you need to recover your strength."

Cynder was shocked, and at the same time she felt swells of hurt and anger.

"I'm not going to just sit here and wait when Spyro might be in danger!" she exclaimed. "I'm going!"

"Cynder, just think about this for a moment," Terrador pleaded. "You have just endured a heated battle and a very strenuous flight back to this city, with no chance to rest for almost four whole days now. You are in no shape to leave again so soon. You would not be able to do any good."

"But—"

"No!" Terrador snapped. "Cynder, be rational. You would only slow the scouts down in your present condition, and if there was danger then you would be vulnerable if you weren't at your full strength. Do you deny this?"

Cynder opened her mouth to protest, but as his words sank in she found that she was unable to. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to take to the air immediately and fly for the mountains as fast as her wings would carry her, but as much as she hated it she was forced to admit that Terrador was right; she was in no shape to go. She would only be a hindrance.

Seeing her troubles, Terrador's expression softened considerably.

"I understand your concern, Cynder," he said gently. "Believe me, I share it. But I'm afraid that there's nothing you can do to help Spyro now. If there is any threat to the village, the scouts will find it, and by the time they bring word I'm sure you will be recovered enough to accompany our forces on the journey to help Spyro, but so far as we know the village is safe. It is well hidden, and the grublins would be hard pressed to find it. For now, you should focus your attention on recovering so that you are prepared if the need for action arises. Alright?"

Cynder sighed heavily, feeling horribly deflated and useless, but she couldn't argue with the older dragon's wisdom in this matter. Though she hated herself for it, she had no choice but to agree, and so she nodded.

"Good. Now, I must go prepare for my own departure. I promise you, Cynder; things will be alright. We will do everything in our power to ensure that all of our friends return safely. Trust us."

"I do," Cynder said quietly, looking up to meet his gaze again.

A small, fleeting smile crossed Terrador's features, and he gave a quick nod before turning and leaving the chamber just as the rest of the guardians had. Soon Cynder was alone, with only the mole for company as he began fastening the bandage wrapping over her wounds.

_Spyro, I hope you're safe_, she thought wistfully, glancing up toward the dark windows high in the room and wishing more than anything that she could see the purple dragon in that moment. _I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you_.

With nothing else to do, Cynder sat back on her haunches and waited, feeling utterly helpless as the rest of the city prepared frantically to rush to the defence of their comrades, leaving her behind and alone.

***.*.***

Hunter jolted upright as the sound of a large bell ringing clanged through the relative stillness of the night, rousing the city's entire population from their slumber in an instant. Barely a second later he had vaulted up from his previous sleeping position—slumped against the wall in a corner of one of the city Guard's barracks since there were no accommodations in the city for any creature not of the draconic kind—and had grabbed his bow and quiver from the floor beside him. Setting the quiver of arrows securely in position across his back as he ran for the door, Hunter had soon managed to navigate around the confused tangle of bodies of dragon guards waking from their sleep in a panic and within minutes he was outside in the pitch-black night, taking a few seconds to look around and get his bearings.

"Grublins advancing toward the wall!" a dragon sentry called from a watch tower constructed just within the wall on the northern side of the city, which was also the location of the alarm bell that was now ringing across the dark landscape. "They're attacking!"

"All guards to your posts!" another voice shouted from somewhere nearby but still out of Hunter's line of sight. "Defend the city!"

All the guard dragons that had funnelled out into the streets by that point quickly turned to the north and rushed to get into their positions, either running or flying, most wearing armour but some not even having time to put theirs on. Hunter likewise began sprinting for the wall, nimbly weaving his way between the dragons in the streets, vaulting over tails and ducking under wings that swung into his path. Within two minutes he had reached the steps to the left of the main gate and rushed up them two at a time, quickly finding his position on the ramparts and trying to place himself so that he was out of the way of the dragons that were constantly rushing by to get into their own positions. The ramparts and the courtyard below were already half full, and more dragons were quickly pouring in.

When Hunter turned his attention to the landscape beyond the wall, he saw what he had been expecting; the grublin army was still encamped where it had been for the last three and a half days, blocking off all escapes from the city except the sea to the south. Over that time there had been two attacks made against the city, with anywhere from a couple hundred to almost a thousand grublins charging the walls and trying to overpower the defenders. Flying grublins would head right for the defenders on the ramparts and try to overwhelm them while their land-bound counterparts attempted to scale the sheer rock surface with surprising ease, their gnarled limbs and fingers finding purchases in the rock that Hunter felt certain he himself would never be able to locate. However, both times the defenders had managed to drive the attackers back with very few losses on their own parts, and the attackers would be forced to retreat back to a safe distance.

Now, as he looked out over the dark stony plateau, Hunter saw that once again a large portion of the enemy army was beginning to advance toward the city, appearing as barely more than an indistinct mass of dark bodies and dancing lights from their torches, gradually drawing nearer.

"How many?" a large, powerful fire dragon, who Hunter had learned two days ago was the city Guard's Captain, Pyruth, called out from the courtyard below.

"Looks to be well over a thousand this time, Captain," the sentry replied, the first hints of fear sounding through in his voice. "Almost a half of their army, I'd wager."

"Getting serious, are they?" Pyruth grunted. "Alright, keep sounding out ranges. Guard, prepare to repel attackers! Let's teach these filthy bugs a lesson once and for all!"

There were several cheers and roars from the gathered defenders, and even despite the bleak situation Hunter gave a small smile at one corner of his mouth, unable to resist the enthusiasm of the dragons. Over the past two battles he had been thoroughly impressed by the ability of the dragons in this city to maintain their morale, and it seemed as though that night was no exception. Whatever Tythos and Pyruth were doing to keep their troops' spirits up, it was working.

"Fifteen hundred metres!" the sentry shouted a moment later, indicating for the rest of the guards the distance remaining between the wall and the front of the grublin army.

Silence. The dragons and Hunter all simply waited as the army approached, the shrill cries of the grublins gradually growing in volume as they constantly drew nearer to the wall. It seemed as though hardly anyone even dared to breathe, tension weighing heavily in the air. Because of the number of grublins taking part in the charge this time, everyone in the city knew that this was going to be their toughest battle yet.

Silently, Hunter reached over his shoulder and pulled an arrow from his quiver, fitting it onto the string of his bow. Over the course of the last two battles his supply of arrows had decreased by about half, the cheetah only being able to recover so many of the ones he fired. He only hoped that he would have enough to last him through the night now. In this city, if he ran out then that was it; there would be no way to resupply with more until he returned to Warfang or his village in Avalar.

"One thousand metres!" the sentry called.

Still no one moved. Down in the courtyard, Hunter could see Captain Pyruth pacing slowly back and forth in front of the ranks of dragons assembled in the open space, which in this instance was exclusively fire and earth dragons, arranged in rows alternating between fire and earth. The only exceptions were the dragons manning the catapults around the border of the courtyard, though for the most part these were fire and earth dragons as well.

"Five hundred metres!"

"Prepare the catapults!" Pyruth shouted.

As the dragons in the courtyard quickly worked to prepare the catapults to fire, pulling back the launching arms and igniting the loaded stones with bursts of fire breath, Hunter turned and gazed out at the advancing grublins. They had picked up speed, and it looked as if they would be upon the wall in only moments.

"Four hundred metres!"

Hunter quickly suppressed the swell of fear and trepidation that rose within him as the massive army continued to bear down on the city. It seemed an almost hopeless situation; over a thousand grublins against only a couple hundred dragons. Still, he wasn't about to let his courage waver. This wasn't the first time that he had fought in a battle against such overwhelming odds, after all, and if he had anything to say about it than it wasn't going to be his last.

"Three hundred metres!" the sentry shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Fire the catapults!" Pyruth ordered.

The catapult crews obeyed immediately, triggering the large siege weapons and sending the flaming projectiles arcing through the air toward the charging grublins. Hunter could easily hear the creatures' squeals of alarm when they saw the bright flaming stones racing toward them, but many of them still weren't able to scatter out of the way before they impacted. Grublins left and right were either flattened or set ablaze by the shots as they slammed into the ground. Dragons all along the wall immediately cheered.

"Reload!" Pyruth shouted. Then he turned to the lines of fire and earth dragons behind him. "Dragons, ready!"

"Two hundred metres!"

"Now!" Pyruth roared.

In almost complete synchronization, the lines of dragons reared their heads back and unleashed a volley of fire bombs and earth missiles from their jaws. Hunter watched with a mild sense of awe as dozens of blazing fireballs and glowing green boulders shot over the wall before raining down on the grublins in a hail of destruction. Clouds of dust and debris were kicked up by the impacts of earth missiles while the fire bombs sent up tremendous explosions, and scores of grublins were caught up in the blasts, broken bodies flying in all directions. In that moment, Hunter looked down at his own bow and arrow and, for the first time in his life, considered them to be puny in comparison to the power the dragon 'archers' had just displayed.

"Again!" the fire dragon captain shouted from the courtyard, addressing both the lines of dragons and the catapults. "Time to bring down some hell on those bugs! No one takes this city!"

The dragons fired again, and a fresh volley of earth missiles and fire bombs sailed through the air to crash into the writhing sea of grublin bodies, the leading edge of the charging army now less than a hundred metres from the base of the wall. The magical projectiles tore through several of the airborne grublins before slamming into the earth, exploding on impact with devastating force. The catapults continued the barrage as well, bringing the charge of dozens of grublins to rather abrupt ends. But still, even despite the massive casualties the grublin army had already sustained, they didn't slow down their advance for even a second. A moment later, they reached the wall.

It was utter chaos. The flying grublins were the first to reach the defenders, swarming in on the dragons atop the wall and battering them with their short clubs. These dragons, mostly of the ice and electric variety, retaliated with their glinting talons, pointed fangs, whipping tails and devastating elemental attacks. Waves of crippling electricity arced through the sky in all directions, felling dozens of grublins at a time and sending their twitching bodies plummeting down over the edge of the wall into the mass of dark creatures below. For the ice dragons, the sheer number of flying grublins around meant that it was almost impossible to miss with their ice shards, no matter which direction they shot them in, and grublins everywhere were falling limply to the earth with the jagged spears of ice lodged in their bodies. All the while, the deafening clanging and shrieking of battle filled the air, the sheer volume making Hunter's sensitive ears ring.

A sudden shriek from somewhere very nearby caused Hunter to jump, and he whirled around just in time to see a flying grublin charging through the air toward him, club swung back and ready to deliver a crippling blow to his head. By nothing more than battle-hardened instinct Hunter grabbed his dagger from his belt with his right paw and spun around, lashing out with the dagger and catching the grublin across the cheek. The creature shrieked in pain and staggered back through the air, clutching at the gash in its face, and while it was vulnerable Hunter attacked again, plunging his dagger into its throat before wrenching it right back out again, causing the grublin to fall limply out of the air. He then immediately spun around and raised his bow, arrow still loaded onto the string, and fired without the slightest hesitation at another flying grublin that was about to catch a hapless electricity dragon from behind with its club. The creature emitted little more than a strangled gasp before collapsing onto the ramparts. Hearing the sound, the electricity dragon spun around to stare wide-eyed at the creature that had almost landed a blow on him. He paused just long enough to give Hunter a thankful nod before turning his attention back on his previous task, which had been using his electricity to try and prevent a squad of land-bound grublins from scaling the wall. He charged up an orb of electricity in his jaws before spitting it out over the edge of the wall toward the climbing grublins, causing it to detonate just as it reached the group. There was a blinding flash and a terrific _BANG_, and the grublins were immediately scattered by the blast and fell to the earth far below them, squealing all the way.

Hunter quickly retrieved his arrow from the body of the grublin he had just killed, and in the pause that followed he glanced around to survey the situation. A large number of the flying grublins had abandoned their attack on the defenders atop the wall and had shifted their focus to the catapults, trying to disable to massive weapons before they could cause any more damage to the advancing army, but they were having little success. Even as the crews continued to load and fire the weapons, they were using their elements at the same time to drive the grublins back, inflicting heavy losses on their numbers while critically wounding others. The grublins weren't without success either, though, and as Hunter watched one of the catapults gave way with a loud rattle as the grublins managed to compromise its structural integrity, the tension from the weapon's own firing arm working to tear itself apart. Now without a catapult to fire, the two dragons that had been manning it leapt without hesitation into the fray, trying to help prevent the grublins from inflicting any more damage. All the while, Pyruth was ordering the dragons in the courtyard to continue their volleys, pausing occasionally to direct blazing waves of fire at attacking grublins and reducing them to ash in moments.

"More grublins climbing the wall!" an ice dragon a few dozen feet away from Hunter called out suddenly. "Don't let them reach the ramparts!"

A number of the ice and electricity dragons turned to face the front of the wall and immediately unleashed a wave of elemental attacks on the swarms of grublins that were quickly scaling the rocky wall, attempting to overrun the defenders on the ramparts. Chains of lightning and explosive orbs of electricity were sent surging through the enemy ranks while ice dragons added streams of freezing energy and ice shards into the mix. One ice dragon in particular suddenly reared up before smashing his forepaws down against the top edge of the wall, sending a sheet of ice down almost the entire height of the wall and causing the hands and feet of dozens of grublins to get frozen against the rocky surface. Then, suddenly, a wave of jagged ice spikes burst out from the sheet and the air was filled with shrieks of pain that were abruptly cut short as the trapped grublins were impaled with no chance of escaping. The ice dragon then allowed the sheet of ice and the spikes to crumble, causing blocks of ice and frozen bodies to rain down on the grublins below and leaving a whole section of the wall clear of invaders. However, Hunter realized that despite the dragons' best efforts, because they had to split their attention between the flying grublins and the ones climbing the walls the grublins were slowly drawing closer and closer to the ramparts before they were dispatched.

"There's too many of them!" one of the dragons cried. "We can't hold them all back!"

"Stand your ground!" Pyruth shouted in response, at the same time spinning around and catching a flying grublin firmly under the chin with the leading edge of his folded wing. Hunter winced slightly as he saw the creature's head rock violently backward, and he could have sworn that he heard the snap from where he stood—a dragon's wing, after all, was strong enough to lift the bulk of a full-grown dragon into the air and propel them easily through the sky, and therefore being on the receiving end of a blow from one of them could be devastating. "Drive them back! Not a single bug will set foot within this city if I have anything to say about it!"

The dragon guards fought valiantly to obey their captain's instructions, but in the end it was beyond their power. Only a few short moments later Hunter saw the first gnarled grublin hands gripping at the lip of the wall, and all at once dozens of grublins heaved themselves up onto the ramparts and lashed out at the dragons with their blades.

Hunter's world constricted to just a few feet in all directions as the grublins swarmed the ramparts, wielding his dagger in one hand and his bow in the other as a battering weapon, the close-quarters combat rendering his arrows next to useless. He quickly ducked as a grublin on his left swung its blade viciously at his head, the razor-sharp edge grazing the fur on the tip of his left ear. Before the creature could swing again Hunter spun around and kicked, sending the grublin teetering backward toward the lip of the wall, arms flailing wildly, before it tipped backward and fell out of sight. Without pause Hunter spun again and brought the leading edge of his bow crashing into the head of another grublin that was charging him from behind, knocking it off the inside edge of the ramparts and sending it tumbling into the courtyard below where it impacted with a sickening crunch. A third grublin came within an inch of running him through with its weapon, but Hunter managed to bring his dagger up just in time to parry the thrust, then jabbed it in the gut with the point of his bow, causing it to double over with a grunt. Before it could recover he swung the bow up sharply, catching the grublin in the chin before he finally grabbed the grublin by the throat with the paw gripping his bow, pulled it close and drove his dagger into its gut. With a prolonged, gurgling groan the grublin went limp and Hunter cast the body aside, turning to survey the chaos all around him.

It was worse than he had expected. The dragons, though having already inflicted massive casualties on the grublins, were completely outnumbered on the ramparts now, and no matter how hard they tried they were unable to protect themselves from attack when the grublins swarmed in on them from every direction at once. Dragons were falling everywhere in sight, though the number of deaths was still at least a dozen grublins for every dragon brought down. Still, if things kept up the way they were going, the defenders on the ramparts wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

"They're sending another wave!" the sentry in the tower shouted suddenly, his panicked voice barely audible over the roar of battle. "The rest of the army is charging the wall!"

After firing an arrow that instantly killed a grublin that had latched on to the back of a nearby ice dragon, Hunter looked to the north and felt his chest constrict with dread when he saw that the remaining grublin forces were indeed beginning their own advance, the line of flickering torches racing quickly toward the city.

"We need help up here!" one of the dragons on the ramparts shouted as they frantically tried to hold three attacking grublins at bay.

Immediately a group of four fire dragons took off from the courtyard and flapped rapidly up into the sky before splitting up into two groups and charging toward the ramparts. As soon as they approached they began breathing out an intense stream of flames from their jaws, incinerating dozens upon dozens of the flying grublins in one lethal pass. Hunter ducked and covered his head as the flames swept past him only feet above his head and scrunched his nose in disgust as the horrid scent of singed grublin flesh reached his nostrils. Then, barely seconds after the fire dragons finished their first pass, the swarm of airborne grublins suddenly charged southward. The fire dragons gave startled cries and tried to hold the onrushing enemies back, but they were caught by surprise and were unable to put up any decent fight before the grublins were upon them. However, to Hunter's great surprise, the dragons weren't the targets. Instead the grublins simply swept past them before charging deeper into the city. Still, the four fire dragons were left with several nasty bruises from the grublins' clubs, as well as a few broken bones. Hunter winced as one of the passing grublins managed to snap the wing of one of the dragons with a brutal swing of its club, causing the dragon to roar in pain before it fell out of the sky and crashed into the courtyard. Somehow, though, he survived the fall and slowly staggered to his feet, alive but seriously injured.

"They're heading for the shelters!" a dragon shouted in alarm.

"Stay at your posts!" Pyruth ordered immediately. "The guards there can handle them! We have to hold this line!"

Just then another call rose from the ramparts.

"Captain!" the frantic voice shouted. "They're carrying something toward the gates!"

"A battering ram?" Pyruth shouted back.

"No, sir! I don't know what they are. They look like some kind of...crates."

Puzzled, Hunter managed to spare a glance toward the plateau at the base of the wall where a sea of grublins still swarmed, and he noticed that a path had been cleared leading to the main gate. His eyes went wide with surprise when he saw six grublins struggling to carry three strange wooden crates along the path up to the gate before stacking them against the thick wood and heavy stone. Then he saw a light, and he looked farther out into the crowd of bodies to see a massive, ogre-like grublin commander lumbering forward with an enormous, spiked club clutched in one hand and a lit torch in the other. It was at that moment that Hunter noticed something about the crate on the bottom of the pile; a small cord that almost looked like a fuse was running out of it and along the ground...

He gasped in horror when he realized what the crates were, and he turned toward the courtyard.

"They're going to blow the gate!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Stop them!" Pyruth ordered immediately, and Hunter could easily hear the frantic note in his voice. "Stop them at all costs! Fire dragons, launch another volley!"

The fire dragons in the courtyard obeyed, spitting out another hail of fire bombs, aiming them in a high arc that would land just beyond the wall. Hunter brought up his own bow as well, firing an arrow at the grublin commander in the hopes of bringing it down before it reached the fuse. He cursed under his breath when he saw his arrow strike the massive grublin on the shoulder, just missing its neck, and the lumbering creature hardly even gave a grunt of pain to indicate that it had even felt the hit. It continued on its previous pace unhindered, even as the fire bombs rained down all around it, scoring nearly a hundred kills but not slowing the commander in the slightest. Hunter fired again, and the result was the same. Neither his arrows, nor the continuing rain of fire bombs seemed to have any effect on the grublin. Then, to Hunter's horror, the creature reached the end of the fuse and shoved the lit torch against it, causing a crackling flame to appear on the end of the fuse and begin its rapid journey toward the crates. The commander immediately tossed its torch aside before pulling its heavy shield from its back and crouching low with the shield covering it entirely.

"Clear the ramparts!" a dragon screamed. "Get clear, now!"

Every single dragon standing on the ramparts above the gate and several dozen metres in either direction launched themselves into the air and beat their wings as fast as they could away from the wall, trying desperately to escape the coming blast. Hunter glanced about and realized with a wave of fear that his only way down from the wall within reach was the staircase right beside the gate. A quick glance at the progress of the fuse told him that he had nowhere enough time to descend them before it was too late, so instead he did the only thing he could think of; he dove in the opposite direction and flattened himself against the ramparts flat on his stomach, covering his head with his arms. Below in the courtyard, the dragons all took shelter behind their wings, bracing themselves.

With a terrible roar, the crates detonated.

***.*.***

Another faint, deep rumble sounded through the walls of the makeshift shelter on the southern edge of the city, and Faren immediately flinched at the sound. Everywhere she looked, she saw dragonesses holding hatchlings close to their bodies with their wings and elders huddled close to their families or each other. On all of them she saw the same look of terror and gut-wrenching worry for the loved ones that at that very moment could be dying at the hands of the assaulting grublins.

This building was only one of three that had been cleared out to serve as a shelter for all those that couldn't fight in the defence of the city. Its previous purpose had been as a dining hall, but now all the tables and cushions had been hauled away to make as much space inside as possible. For the past several days, no one had been allowed to leave as the grublins' siege drew on. Faren soon found herself wishing that she could be anywhere but the shelter, where the only thing surrounding her was sadness and fear. A horrible feeling of helplessness was rising up inside her, threatening to overpower her. Just sitting there and doing nothing was practically killing her when other dragons could be dying. What about her father? Was he still alright? And Hunter?

_If only I'd had more courage_, she thought dejectedly. _If only I could have stood up for myself, I wouldn't be trapped here_.

She sighed heavily and let her head sag toward the ground, feeling utterly useless. Why was it that she was always too afraid to stand up in the face of her father? He had spent the last couple of years training her alongside Sirius for a situation just like this, but now that the situation he had been training her for was upon them not only did he lock her up in a shelter, but she herself felt too afraid to actually do anything about it. If Sirius were there, she was certain that he never would have allowed himself to be told to stay behind while others fought for their home. He would have never given in, but she had hardly put up a fight at all. She had just accepted it.

_I'm just weak_, she sighed inwardly, a feeling of depression pressing down on her. _No wonder Sirius was always the favourite_...

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted when an unfamiliar sound reached her ears, and in confusion she tilted her head up and looked toward a small window in the wall of the shelter, though from this angle she could see nothing more than an indistinct wall on the other side of the street. Still, the sound was growing louder. To Faren is seemed almost like some kind of ghostly chattering sound, mixed with the drone of oversized, insect-like wings.

"Grublins!" a voice from outside the shelter called out suddenly, causing Faren to jump. "Incoming!"

A series of shrill, terrible cries that were filled with a sinister eagerness cut through the air, and all at once the sounds of a frantic battle broke out just outside the shelter. Faren felt terror explode through her as shrieks and roars of pain and fury echoed throughout the building, and all around the sheltering dragons were huddling together and whimpering in fear and despair. A particularly loud squeal from somewhere just on the other side of the northern wall of the building startled Faren badly, and it was then that she couldn't take it any longer. She _had_ to know what was going on out there. She forced herself to run over to the small window and cautiously peered past its edge.

What she saw in the street beyond caused her breath to catch in her throat. Dozens of flying grublins had descended upon the handful of armoured guard dragons that had remained behind to defend the citizens in the case that any grublins were able to break past the front defensive line, and now the dragons were fighting desperately to keep from being overrun. Faren watched in horror as an earth dragon just a dozen feet away was swarmed by eight of the grublins, which proceeded to batter him mercilessly with their clubs all over his body. No matter how hard he struggled he was unable to throw them off, and a moment later one of the grublins delivered a terrible blow to the knee of the dragon's right hind leg, snapping the joint and causing the dragon to collapse onto the ground with a roar of pain. The other guards were too busy with other grublins to be able to come to his assistance, leaving the dragon helpless as the grublins continued to batter him, covering his hide with hideous bruises and often drawing blood.

It was simply too much to take. A feeling of desperation welled up within the young red fire dragoness as she watched her fellow dragon get mercilessly beaten by those horrible creatures, and despite the terror that was still coursing through her she knew that she couldn't just sit there and do nothing. Before she could stop herself she had scrambled up to the ledge of the window and had squeezed her thin body through the small opening, emerging in the chaos outside. Then, in a blind dash, she charged toward the downed earth dragon and fired out a bright red fireball from her jaws that streaked through the air and exploded against the back of one of the grublins, knocking it out of the sky. The other grublins paused what they were doing and turned dumbfounded looks upon Faren, shocked that such a frail-looking dragoness would actually attack them. The earth dragon seized this opening, unleashing a devastating earth blast that hurled four of the grublins back against a nearby wall where they crumpled into broken heaps on the ground. Another two fireballs from Faren downed two more of the grublins with surprising precision, leaving only one left. The grublin charged for the downed earth dragon's head, hoping to deliver one last, hopefully fatal blow before it too was brought down. The earth dragon shot out an earth missile, but the attack went wide and the dragon's eyes went wide with fear as the grublin closed in on it.

The grublin let out a piercing shriek of surprise and pain when a fireball streaked in seemingly from out of nowhere and caught it right on the side of the face, knocking it to the ground where it lay writhing in pain, clutching at the horrible burn on its face. Immediately the earth dragon let out a deep snarl and slammed one of his forepaws against the ground, and an instant later the ground under the grublin erupted with a dozen long, viciously sharp spikes of earth that impaled the grublin in an instant. Then the spikes slowly receded into the ground, leaving the pierced body behind. The earth dragon turned his head and fixed Faren with a stern glare, and the dragoness withered slightly under his gaze.

"What are you doing out here?" he demanded in a voice that was pinched from the pain his broken leg caused him. "Get back inside before—"

A sudden shriek cut him off, and Faren and the earth dragon both whipped their heads around toward the source of the cry. Faren let out a startled squeal of fear when she saw two grublins bearing down on her, a bloodthirsty eagerness in their bright red eyes as they raised their clubs high over their heads, ready to bring her life to an abrupt end. The earth dragon fired an earth missile and managed to hit one of them, but his second shot just barely missed its mark, leaving Faren helpless against the charging foe.

Then, suddenly, when it closed to just a few feet away Faren's instinct suddenly took over. The endless months of gruelling training her father had put her through caused her to react by reflex, and before she even knew what was happening she had ducked the grublin's first swing, caught its club in her jaws and slashed it twice across the face and chest with her talons before wrenching the club from its grip and rocking her head sharply upward and catching the grublin in the gut with her horns. The grublin gave a sharp gasp of pain as it was knocked upward a few feet higher into the air, and before it could recover Faren had leapt up into the air after it and raked her talons once more across its chest before spinning around and bringing her tail crashing into the top of its head, sending it shooting into the ground below where it impacted with a sickening _thud_ and lay still. Faren landed heavily beside it an instant later, panting and trembling from the adrenaline surging through her body, and for a long moment all she could do was stare at the body of the grublin.

_Did I really just do that?_ she thought incredulously.

The earth dragon was staring at her with a look of pure shock on his features, and while Faren felt uncomfortable under his gaze she couldn't help but feel a small, fleeting swell of pride at his reaction. Just then he opened his mouth to speak.

Before he could utter a syllable, a massive rumble shook the air and cut him off, causing everyone in the street, dragon and grublin alike, to whirl around to face the source. Faren gasped in horror when she saw the massive plume of dark smoke curling slowly up into the sky from the northern side of the city.

_Father!_ she thought, terror sweeping through her. _Hunter!_

Without hesitating or even thinking, Faren took off running as fast as her legs would carry her down the street, heading in the direction of the explosion. She heard the wounded earth dragon make some kind of surprised exclamation, but she didn't pause to hear what he said. The only thing that mattered to her in that moment was making sure that her father and friend were safe.

***.*.***

Hunter groaned weakly as he struggled to maintain consciousness. His entire body burned with a dull, throbbing pain, and the only thing he could hear was a low, droning ringing sound. His world seemed to be falling in and out of focus, and for what felt like ages he couldn't seem to make his body move. But then, slowly, he began to regain his senses and was able to hear other sounds.

He frowned in confusion when he realized, however, that while his hearing seemed to be clearing up the droning sound didn't disappear, only changed tone and deepened into a sort of dull roar. Puzzled, he slowly raised his head, wincing as his battered muscles sent twinges of pain through his body, and looked around. Only a moment later his eyes fell on the source of the strange sound, and immediately he felt his breath catch.

The grublin army was regrouping on the far side of the wall, moving to fill in the large gap that had opened up when the explosion had blown all the grublins within a hundred feet of the gate backward, and now their triumphant shrieks filled the pre-dawn sky with a chilling racket, like some kind of twisted, haunting chorus. The sound was enough to send a terrible shiver down Hunter's spine as it pounded against his ears.

In the courtyard below, the dragons were only just beginning to pick themselves up off the ground, groaning as they pushed slabs of broken stone and wood off themselves. It looked as though many of them were nursing broken bones as they gingerly pushed themselves to their feet, battered and bloodied by the explosion and the debris that had come crashing down on them. At least twenty had been crushed by the debris and would never move again.

Hunter whipped his gaze around to the north again when a deafening bellow sounded, and Hunter's eyes quickly found the hulking grublin commander that had lit the fuse of the explosives brandishing its enormous club in the air and sounding the attack. The deafening cry of a thousand eager grublins rang out, and all at once they charged for the gaping hole in the wall where the gate had been before.

"Here they come!" Captain Pyruth roared as he extracted himself out from underneath a large hunk of stone debris, and Hunter noticed that the rough stone had left a considerable gash on the top of his right hip but the dragon gave no indication of letting it hinder him. "Alright, let's show these bugs that we don't get knocked down so easily! No matter the cost, we hold this line!"

The first wave of grublins reached the courtyard, and in an instant the entire space was transformed into a scene of utter chaos. Dragons and grublins converged in a tangle of slashing talons and blades, elemental breath attacks shooting off in every direction imaginable as the dragon guards gave everything they had to prevent the grublins from overrunning their city. Hunter was nothing short of astounded by their tenacity, as every single grublin that tried to engage the dragons lasted only seconds before the snarling, frenzied beasts tore them apart. Not a single dragon had been brought down yet, but the grublins just kept coming. There was no end to them.

Shaking himself from his daze, Hunter leapt to his feet and brought up his bow, fitting an arrow to the string and firing all in the course of a second, dropping a grublin that was mere inches away from running an electric dragon through with its blade. Over the course of the next minute he completely depleted his supply of arrows, but every single one found its mark. Then, with no more arrows to fire, the cheetah slipped his bow over his shoulder before drawing his dagger and leaping off the ramparts into the fray.

The next several minutes passed by in such a confused jumble that Hunter could hardly keep track of exactly what was happening and when. All he was aware of was grublins on every side, constantly swarming in on him no matter how many he struck down, but eventually he somehow found himself backed up against the side of Pyruth.

"Persistent, aren't they?" the large fire dragon grunted as he reared back to avoid the tip of a grublin's blade before bring his forepaw crashing down on top of it, flattening it against the stone ground.

"They certainly seem that way," Hunter replied as he blocked a grublin blade on his dagger. Almost faster than the grublin could blink Hunter had closed his free paw around the creature's wrist. With a swift wrench he snapped the joint, causing the grublin's eyes to bug out in pain before it released its grip on the sword. In one swift motion Hunter had grabbed the hilt of the blade and spun around, decapitating the grublin in one rapid stroke. Then he twirled the blade around to parry a thrust from yet another grublin. "How long do you think we can keep this up?"

"As long as we have to," Pyruth replied.

With a snarl, the fire dragon shot his head forward and breathed out a blazingly hot jet of flames that incinerated no less than a dozen grublins instantly and caused all others nearby to scatter. Then, before they could regroup, Pyruth reared up and Hunter saw his forepaws begin to glow with a bright orange energy before he slammed them against the ground. Hunter staggered as a sudden tremor shot through the earth, and his eyes widened in shock when the stony ground in front of Pyruth erupted in a web of cracks that glowed a blazing red. As soon as the cracks reached a dense cluster of grublins, a massive wave of fire blasted up out of the cracks, consuming the grublins in an instant. Hunter was stunned, having never seen a fire dragon perform such a devastating attack.

"Hunter!"

Hunter jolted at the sudden call and spun around toward the source. A feeling of shock surged through him when his gaze fell on the small, rose-red fire dragoness that had just skidded to a stop at the southern edge of the courtyard, looking out at the raging battle with an expression of pure horror. Immediately Hunter was sprinting toward her, using his stolen grublin blade to clear his path, and within seconds he had reached her.

"What are you doing out here?" he demanded. "You should be back in the shelters!"

"I s-saw the explosion," Faren stammered fearfully, her wide eyes still gazing out at the fierce conflict that raged only metres away. "I wanted to make sure you and father were alright..."

"This is no place for you," Hunter said forcefully. "You need to get to safety, before—"

"Look out!" Faren screeched suddenly.

Hunter glanced over his shoulder again and jolted when he saw a flying grublin streaking toward him, coming in far too quickly for him to be able to raise his own blade in time to defend himself, but just before it reached him it was suddenly met by a bright fireball that blew it backward out of the sky. Startled, Hunter returned his gaze forward to see that it had been Faren that had fired the shot.

"Thank you," he said with a nod and a small smile. "But you still need to leave—"

A sudden, thunderous bellow cut him off once again, and this time when Hunter looked back at the courtyard it was to see the huge grublin commander charging through the broken gate and into the fray, swinging its club wildly to clear its path, striking grublin and dragon indiscriminately. It only took Hunter a moment to realize that Captain Pyruth was its target.

The fire dragon roared furiously and spat out a white-hot ball of flames at the charging grublin, but it raised its shield and managed to catch the incoming projectile on the thick protective surface. The blast shattered the shield, but the resulting smokescreen allowed the grublin to cross the remaining distance between it and the captain unhindered, and with a mighty swing of its club it caught Pyruth on the right flank and sent him crashing into a wall at the southern end of the courtyard, spraying his blood across the stone ground. Then, before the captain could rise, it charged again.

However, to Hunter's complete surprise, the grublin's charge was cut off as a hail of enormous earth missiles suddenly pounded into the courtyard directly in its path, causing it to slide to a halt and cover its head and upper body with its arms. Then a thunderous roar echoed throughout the plateau, and an instant later an enormous earth dragon wearing heavy golden armour crashed into the courtyard, landing with such force that Hunter could have sworn he felt a ripple go through the ground.

"Terrador," he muttered in shock.

An instant later another dragon sped into the courtyard, though he was significantly smaller than the guardian and wearing silver armour instead of gold. Still, his power was unquestionable, for his landing in the courtyard was accompanied by a blazing shockwave of flames that blew nearly a hundred grublins back through the air, their scorched bodies impacting the ground all the way on the far end of the courtyard.

"Sirius!" Faren exclaimed.

"Are you both alright?" the guardian-in-training asked over his shoulder as he settled into a battle stance in front of the two, glaring out at the swarm of grublins that had now drawn to a hesitant halt at the arrival of the two dragons.

"We're fine," Hunter replied immediately, rising to his feet and taking up a position by the fire dragon's side. "But if I might ask, where did you come from?"

"We got your message," Sirius replied, nodding with his head toward Terrador. "We came as quickly as we could, and we brought help."

A deep roar cut through the air, and Hunter looked out through the broken gate and was surprised when he saw dozens of dragons of all types crisscrossing through the sky, shooting their breath attacks down into the grublin ranks and severely weakening their forces, at the same time dividing their focus so that no more were entering the courtyard. Not that it mattered—all activity in the courtyard itself had all but ceased as the combatants, dragon and grublin alike, stopped to watch as Terrador and the grublin commander faced off against each other.

The grublin gave a deep, rumbling growl from deep in its throat and tossed the splintered remains of its shield aside, flourishing its club in front of it before settling into a battle stance. Terrador didn't so much as move a muscle, glaring back at the grublin with a steady but fierce intensity in his eyes that Hunter was unaccustomed to seeing. Then, with another deep bellow, the grublin charged.

It was clear almost immediately that this was a grave mistake. As soon as it had picked up speed Terrador gave a deafening roar and slammed a forepaw into the ground, a massive pillar of earth bursting up out of the courtyard directly in the grublin's path and catching it soundly under the chin, knocking it flat on its back immediately. Then, before the grublin could rise, Terrador gave another roar and Hunter gasped as his entire body began glowing with bright green energy. Immediately the whole courtyard began to shake violently, enormous cracks opening all around and causing the grublins to stagger and fall. Strangely, none of the dragons seemed affected, and Hunter realized that the earth guardian must have been precisely directing his attack only at the grublins. Then, with a deep rumble, a series of jagged stone spikes burst up from the thousands of cracks in the stone, impaling over half of the grublins instantly. The grublin commander was pierced by no less than three of the spikes, but somehow it was still living. The surviving grublins began fleeing for the breach in the wall in terror, but Terrador wasn't about to let them get away so easily. The glow around his body intensified before collecting in the club of his tail, which he raised high in the air before smashing it against the ground behind him, causing a devastating shockwave of green energy to sweep through the courtyard, shattering the stone spikes as it passed and throwing the bodies of all the grublins hundreds of feet through the air. The grublin commander gave a final defiant roar of fury before the shockwave reached it, obscuring it in a cloud of dust and debris. When the shockwave passed and the dust cleared, hardly anything remained. The panicked cries of the grublins quickly faded into the distance as they fled the battle, retreating toward the pass. The dragon reinforcements from Warfang pursued them for a short while before turning back to the city and touching down in the courtyard amongst the defenders of the eastern city that were slowly regrouping after the battle, their numbers severely diminished.

"Master Terrador," Captain Pyruth grunted as he approached the massive earth dragon, limping considerably from the blow he had received from the grublin. Hunter could see blood flowing freely from a number of gashes the spiked weapon had left, and he stifled a gasp when he saw how the side plate of his armour was almost completely caved in, crushing in against his ribs which must surely have been broken by the blow. He couldn't imagine what kind of pain he must be in, but once again Pyruth showed hardly acknowledgement of it. "You're timing could hardly be better."

"I'm only sorry that we couldn't have arrived sooner," Terrador sighed in his deep, rumbling voice, gazing out sadly at the bodies of dragons that littered the courtyard. "We departed as soon as we received Hunter's message, but even so it looks as though you've had to endure much in the intervening time."

"It doesn't matter," Pyruth grunted dismissively. "I doubt those bugs will be very eager to try another attack any time soon after the thrashing you and your forces just handed to them. We are in your debt."

Terrador inclined his head in reply before glancing toward the breached wall. "And what plans do you have from here?"

Pyruth gave a heavy sigh, a distasteful look settling over his expression. "Well, with the wall breached like that this city is no longer defendable. Elder Tythos will most likely call for the evacuation to proceed now. I expect we'll be following you back to Warfang very shortly. Speaking of which, I had better go inform the elders that the danger has passed for now."

He turned to depart but gave a sharp groan and winced as his wounded flank was twisted. Terrador quickly moved to cut off his path.

"You need to get that wound seen to," the earth guardian said firmly. Then he turned his gaze. "Sirius?"

"I'll go find father," the fire dragon nodded immediately.

He quickly turned to depart, pausing for a moment before departing to turn a concerned gaze in the direction of his sister. She quickly offered a small, reassuring smile that seemed to help alleviate some of the older dragon's tension. Then he spread his wings and took off over the city, disappearing over the rooftops soon afterwards.

"As for the rest of us," Terrador rumbled, glancing around him, "we had all best prepare for an imminent departure. We want to be far away from this city before the grublins decide to try another attack."

The dragons in the courtyard all nodded and rapidly dispersed, hurrying to assist in any preparations or work that was required before they could leave for Warfang, whether it be gathering supplies, assisting wounded or clearing away the dead for burial. As they set to work, Terrador turned slowly and padded over to where Hunter and Faren stood, coming to a stop a few feet in front of them.

"I'm glad to see that both of you are unharmed," he said, glancing between the cheetah and young dragoness. "After seeing the state Cynder was in when she returned with the citizens from the north, and after we received your call for assistance, we were beginning to fear the worst."

"Cynder?" Faren said in a small voice. "Something happened to her?"

Terrador nodded with a sigh. "The northern city was assaulted just as Cynder arrived. From the reports we've received, only about half of the population made it out. Cynder received a few minor wounds and will be fine, but still, to have two of three settlements fall under attack, and so closely together is concerning."

"You fear for Spyro," Hunter guessed.

Terrador nodded with another heavy sigh, turning his gaze toward the north-west with a distant expression.

"I only pray to the Ancestors that he has not encountered the same dangers as the rest of us."

* * *

><p><strong>Alrighty, well there you have it. Another chapter down. Hope you liked it!<strong>

**Wait...Who's that in the next chapter? ...Is it...Could it be...?**

**Wait, it is! It's—**

***connection lost***


	18. Chapter 17

_Chapter 17:_

Pain. That was the first thing he was aware of as he slowly returned to the realm of the conscious. A dull, throbbing ache permeated his entire being, interspersed with sharp jabs of pain that shot up from his muscles if he so much as twitched wrong. It felt like he had spent the last several hours getting tossed about and battered by a golem.

_What happened to me?_ he wondered blearily. _Where am I?_

Slowly, groggily, Spyro cracked his eyelids open and tried to get a sense of his surroundings without requiring that he move his sore body. All that he could see in front of him, though, was a rough stone floor and wall that was lit only by the dim, flickering glow of a torch flame somewhere to his left. The air was damp and cold, and Spyro's nostrils wrinkled when he finally made out the smell that filled that dark space; a dull, rancid stench like mould, not all that unlike the smells he was used to from growing up in the swamp but at the same time fouler.

_What is this place?_

A sudden sharp cramp in his gut caused Spyro to wince and groan, and a loud grumbling sound echoed within the tight stone chamber. Spyro's paw immediately went for his stomach, which seemed to be calling insistently for his attention, hunger clawing painfully at his gut. Another grumble sounded, and Spyro gave another groan, though this one was more of irritation than discomfort.

_I feel like I haven't eaten in a week!_

It was at that moment that a new scent caught his attention, and Spyro froze as it played up his nostrils. The odour was faint and almost impossible to identify, but it at least smelled like something edible and immediately his mouth began to water. Ignoring the lances of dull pain that coursed through his neck muscles, Spyro began searching about for the source and soon his eyes fell on a small metal platter lying on the stone floor a few feet to his left. A small wooden bowl sat on top of it, filled with water, and beside the bowl sat a rather stale-looking hunk of dry bread. It looked as if it had been left outside in the elements for a week, with the first hints of mould growing on its underside to go along with its rock-hard, shrivelled appearance, and Spyro immediately scowled at the sight of it. What was bread in _that_ state doing there?

His stomach growled again, much more loudly than before, and Spyro gave a small sigh.

_It's better than some of the things I had to eat that time I got lost in the swamp_, he told himself resignedly, and with another sigh he began gingerly shifting his body closer to the platter and reached with a weak forepaw, simply glad for the chance to put an end to his crippling hunger pains.

However, to his surprise, when he reached his paw forward he suddenly became aware of something clinging to it out of the corner of his vision. Puzzled, Spyro looked down at his foreleg and gasped in surprise when he saw what was attached to it.

There, clamped around his foreleg just above the wrist of his paw, was some kind of thick metal shackle. He hadn't noticed it before against the general ache of his body, but now that he could see it he realized that it was pinched painfully tight around his limb and felt unnaturally cold, rendering his foreleg numb from the contact with it. Streaming out of the shackle was a flickering energy chain that looked almost like some kind of electric arc, appearing strangely similar to the magical chain that had linked him and Cynder together when they had awoken in the catacombs, except that instead of glowing green this binding was more of a purplish-red hue. Glancing around quickly, he realized that all four of his legs were shackled similarly. There was also one toward the end of his tail, and even one on his neck, the six chains of energy converging on a dark, jagged metal anchoring device securely embedded in the stone wall on his right.

"What's going on?" he wondered aloud, feeling the first prickles of fear running through him.

He jumped with a silent gasp when a shuffling sound to his left reached him, and he immediately whipped his gaze toward the source to see a set of heavy iron bars, beyond which sat the torch that was the source of the only light within the tiny stone chamber, and he realized with a swell of confusion that he was inside some kind of prison cell. Then the shuffling sound came again, and a moment later a figure appeared from beyond the right wall of the cell. It was an earth dragon wearing a set of simple, worn-looking armour, his face partially obscured by the helm he wore, but Spyro could still see enough of his face to make out the distasteful scowl set on the dragon's features. He was followed closely by an electricity dragon wearing similar armour and bearing a similar scowl.

"So, you're finally awake," the earth dragon rumbled in a deep, harsh voice, and Spyro couldn't help but shrink away nervously when he saw the glint of anger and disgust in his dark brown eyes. "About time."

"Where...where am I?" Spyro muttered hesitantly, glancing around at the cell in which he found himself once more.

"Where you belong," the earth dragon replied, his voice edged with a low growl. "The dungeons, where you can rot for what you've done to our homes."

"Wh...what?" Spyro said weakly, the earth dragon's words causing a tremendous wave of confusion to sweep over him. There was an unmistakable note of hostility in the dragon's demeanour and tone, but Spyro couldn't begin to imagine what the cause of it might be. "I don't understand..."

"You didn't think that we would actually manage to get you in here, huh?" the earth dragon sneered. "Thought that you were just too powerful for anyone to ever touch you, I bet. Well it's exactly that kind of blind arrogance that was your undoing. You're not as invincible as you think."

Spyro was stunned speechless, his mind reeling as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. What was this dragon talking about? Clearly he was being blamed for something, but what could he have possibly done that would cause these dragons to want to throw him in a dungeon?

"But...how did I get here?" he said at length, his voice quivering slightly from his sheer confusion and also a hint of fear. "The last thing I remember, I was in the village, and someone hit me with electricity..."

"That would be me," the electricity dragon said, and Spyro caught a clear flash of dark pride in his expression. "To be honest, I never expected to be the one to get the drop on the _great_ purple dragon." He snorted derisively. "Really, you made it a lot easier than I was anticipating. It was almost a disappointment."

"So that's your excuse for knocking him out for five days, is it?" the earth dragon snickered.

"Five days?" Spyro exclaimed incredulously.

"That's right," the earth dragon grinned darkly. "The elders were worried for a little while there, afraid you would kick it before they got a chance to question you. Wasted concern, in my opinion..."

"Wait, question?" Spyro blurted, his confusion reaching a peak. "Question me for what? Why am I in here?"

Both dragons turned incredulous looks in his direction for a moment, as if his question was ridiculous, but almost immediately the looks were replaced by derisive scowls.

"Right," the earth dragon snorted. "You can try all you want to fool us with that clueless routine, but it's not going to work."

"You might as well save your breath," the electricity dragon added as the two of them turned and walked off down the dark underground corridor, leaving Spyro alone in his cell with questions swirling madly in his head.

When the dragons had gone and Spyro realized that he was once again alone in that dark, dank prison, he felt a terrible swell of fear and helplessness rise up within him. Here he was, chained up in a tiny prison cell with no idea why he was there, and his guards made it sound as if they blamed him for some terrible, heinous crime that he had no knowledge of. What was worse, he had been unconscious for five days! What would the guardians think? Had Demetrius reached them and informed them of how he had been captured? Would they come looking for him, or would he be left alone in this cell, forgotten and alone?

_I could probably just break out of here and go back to Warfang myself_, he thought suddenly, glancing for a moment at the iron bars that covered the entrance to his cell.

Almost immediately he pushed the thought from his mind. Clearly there had been some kind of gross misunderstanding, and forcibly breaking out would only serve to make matters worse for himself. No matter how desperate he was to get out of that cell and return to his friends and companions, he realized that for the time being his only choice was to try and get things straightened out as quickly as possible. Surely the dragons here would listen to reason...

With a long, resigned sigh, Spyro sank back down onto the hard, cold stone floor of the cell and reached for the metal platter, praying silently that this would all be over soon.

_I wish Cynder was here..._

***.*.***

Within the underground cavern that housed and sheltered the mountain dragon village, the streets were filled with utter disarray. Debris from crumbled buildings littered the streets and walkways, and the village's numerous small squares and courtyards were covered in the signs of the terrible battle that had been fought there a week before. Even though nearly seven whole days had passed since that horrible night, repairs had barely even begun as the residents struggled to recover from the shock and the blow their village had received.

On that day, a lone, young white dragon plodded slowly through the broken streets, his gaze sweeping over the buildings and the damage that surrounded him with a miserable expression. Sheer depression weighed down on him and rendered his movements sluggish and laboured, and the faint glimmer of hope that he had been trying so desperately to hold on to for the past week had all but been extinguished. Seven days of searching, and the object of his search was nowhere to be found.

"Claymore?" he called weakly into the empty street.

His head drooped toward the ground and he gave a sad sigh when there was no reply, but then again, he hadn't truly been expecting one. Over the past several days he must have searched the entire village three times over, and not once had he ever found any indication or clue as to the whereabouts of his brother. Nobody he asked had seen the missing earth dragon, and while the dragons he encountered tried their best to be comforting, they were beginning to tell him that he might do better to simply give up.

_He can't be gone_, Flash thought dejectedly, trying with all his might to suppress the wave of sorrow that welled up within him. _He has to be around somewhere!_

Still, no matter how hard he tried to hold out hope, a nagging voice inside his head was telling him to accept the inevitable: if Claymore hadn't returned yet, and no one had seen him since he made his dash for the northern cavern exit with the grublins in hot pursuit, how could he still think that he was coming back?

He shook his head roughly to drive away those thoughts. He would not, _could_ not accept the fact that Claymore may never return to the village. He _had_ to come back. If he didn't...

_No!_ Flash thought forcibly. _Claymore _will_ come back! He's never left me alone before, and he can't now!_

He paused for a moment when the buildings on his right fell away and revealed a moderately-sized courtyard outside of the village's healer's pavilion. All available space within the courtyard was filled with wounded dragons of all types and ages as a pair of dragon healers paced along the rows of figures, trying their best to comfort them and assist them in any way they could. Flash found himself struck deeply by the sight; even though seven days had passed since the attack, the village's recovery was only just starting. The healers' supply of red spirit gems had never been large, since it was difficult to locate gem deposits without abandoning the safety of their shelter, and as a result, most of the injured dragons were forced to wait for their various wounds to heal at their own pace. When he saw the pain that some of them were in Flash felt immensely grateful that all he had sustained was a few bruises and a cut across his forelegs, the scar from which was barely noticeable because of the shade of his scales. Still, this feeling was dulled by the loss and anxiety that plagued him.

He was just about to turn away and continue on his lonely route when a figure near the edge of the courtyard caught his attention. One of the healers, a smaller-than-average ice dragoness, was examining a much younger patient who seemed to be in a significant amount of discomfort. He kept twitching and writhing as the dragoness poked at his injuries, and the healer seemed to be growing impatient.

"Sarix, would you stop fussing?" the dragoness sighed irritably. "Honestly, all this complaining over a scratch."

Flash gave a small frown as he gazed more closely at the young black dragon lying on his side on the cobblestones, and a moment later he realized that he looked familiar. Eventually he was able to determine the reason why; this was a dragon that Flash had seen his brother with on occasion. As far as he could tell, the two of them had been somewhat close friends, and he decided that maybe this black dragon might have an answer as to Claymore's whereabouts. He knew it was a long shot, but still, he was willing to try anything at this point. With a sense of mild uncertainty, he stepped out into the courtyard and made his way over to the black dragon. As he approached, the healer completed her examination.

"Well, your wounds look like they're going to heal up nicely as far as I can tell," she declared. "As long as you don't strain yourself, you should be fine. You're free to leave."

With that she turned and moved off down another line of injured dragons in the courtyard to resume tending to the other patients. A long moment passed in silence afterward, and in this time Flash glanced over the black dragon lying before him. He was covered in white bandage wrapping, most prominently on the back of his right shoulder just above his wing where he had apparently suffered a deep gash from a grublin blade. There was also a concentration of the cloth on the end of his tail where a thick bundle of bandages was tightly wrapped, and Flash felt his eyes widen slightly when he realized that the dragon's tail was devoid of any kind of blade. There was only a stump under the bandages, apparently where a grublin had hacked through the thick muscle and bone of the young dragon's tail tip. Flash could scarcely imagine the pain he must have endured.

"Hey," the dragon said suddenly, and Flash brought his gaze up to see that the black dragon's eyes fixed intently upon him. "You're Claymore's brother, right?"

Feeling slightly daunted by the way the black dragon was looking at him, Flash hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod.

"You haven't seen him, have you?" he asked in a wistful tone, hardly daring to allow himself to feel hope.

The black dragon seemed caught by surprise by the look of sad longing in the light dragon's eyes, and immediately his own expression sank into one of regret and pity.

"No, sorry," he said, shaking his black-scaled head. "Is he missing?"

Flash gave a heavy, dejected sigh and nodded again, his gaze falling to the ground.

"I'm sorry," the black dragon said again, appearing troubled by Flash's grief and like he wanted to help in some way but didn't know how.

He had received the answer that he had been expecting, but still it was a hard blow for Flash to take. To say that he had been growing desperate was a gross understatement. Without his brother there by his side he felt hopelessly alone and lost, and now, once again, his hope of finding him had been dashed. He wasn't sure how much more of this uncertainty and fear he could take, and despite his strongest efforts to hold himself together he could feel his resolve fraying. He closed his eyes tightly and turned his head away when he felt the first sting of tears in his eyes. He fought desperately to hold them back, unwilling to let another dragon see him in such a state.

"Sorry to bother you," he muttered in a pinched voice, and he turned away and began plodding sadly for the near edge of the courtyard to resume his search alone.

"Hey, wait," the black dragon called out suddenly, causing Flash to pause and look curiously back over his shoulder. He was surprised to see the black dragon pushing himself quickly to his feet, wincing slightly as his wounded shoulder was stretched. "I'll help you look for him."

Flash was caught thoroughly off guard by this offer, and for a long moment all he could manage was to stare at the other young dragon with a sceptical expression. He felt strangely conflicted; the idea of no longer being entirely alone in his wandering brought a small feeling of comfort, but at the same time he had never been comfortable in the company of anyone other than his brother.

"Why?" he asked finally.

Now it was the black dragon's turn to be caught by surprise, and it looked as though he had some difficulty wording his answer. At length he shrugged.

"He's my friend too," he said finally. "And it's obviously important to you to find him. I want to help."

Flash was still uncertain, but in the end he simply didn't have the energy to protest. With a weary sigh, he slowly nodded his head.

"Fine."

Without even waiting for any kind of reply, Flash turned away again and began plodding down another debris-strewn roadway. The black dragon hurried to catch up until he was walking by the white dragon's side.

"It's Flash, right?" he asked in a gentle voice, as if trying to use his words to help comfort the younger dragon.

Flash looked up in mild surprise when the other dragon used his nickname, and he fixed his companion with a quizzical gaze.

"Your brother told me about you," the black dragon explained, seeing Flash's confusion. "My name's Sarix, by the way."

Flash merely grunted and turned his gaze back to the street. Beside him, he heard Sarix give a quiet, sad sigh before he likewise devoted his attention to the task at hand.

Despite the added assistance of Sarix, the rest of the day passed without any more success in locating Flash's missing brother. Sarix would often stop other dragons in the streets to ask them if they had seen any sign of Claymore recently, but their responses were almost always the same; either they would say that the last time they had seen him was before the attack, or they would simply shrug and offer their apologies. The one thing that was constant amongst almost all of them, however, was that same message that Flash had been hearing more and more over the past couple of days:

If he hadn't been found yet, he most likely never would be.

_They wouldn't be so quick to say that if it was their own family_, Flash thought with mounting bitterness.

Still, inside he didn't find it entirely surprising that everyone they talked to was ready to move on. After all, they had all found the closure that he was now seeking days ago. They had either been reunited with the families, or they had learned of their deaths. All around, dragons were finding the answers they needed to allow them to move on. The day after leaving the hideout, Flash had quickly learned that Kryos had been reunited with his mother, who had in fact survived after the grublins had overtaken her, as well as with his father who had somehow survived getting blown through a wall by the purple dragon himself. Gemma had quickly been found by her mother, who had suffered a severely broken wing and would likely never fly again but who was still alive, and Raenna had at least been reunited with her father even if her mother hadn't survived. They had the peace of knowing what had happened to their families, while Flash was left to worry and to wonder. How could he possibly move on like everyone was telling him to if he had no way of knowing if his brother was alive or not? What if he was hurt somewhere, waiting to be found? He couldn't just stop looking if that were the case. How devastating would it be, to give him up for dead only to learn later that he in fact had still been alive, only to subsequently perish when no one came for him? Flash knew he could never live with himself if that were the case.

"So, what did you say happened to him again?" Sarix asked after nearly two hours of unsuccessful searching had passed.

Flash let out a heavy sigh and drew to a halt in the street, the weight of his emotions wearing heavily on him. At that point in time he wasn't sure if he wanted to recall that night, fearing that the memory of the last time he had seen his brother might be too much to bear, but when he saw the expression on the black dragon's face, filled with curiosity and even a kind of longing, he realized that as Claymore's friend Sarix had the right to know.

"We got cut off from the shelters," he began in a tight voice. "For a while we were just trying to stay ahead of the grublins, until we met up with a few of Claymore's friends..."

He very briefly summarized the group's attempts to evade the grublins and reach the safety of the hideout. However, when he reached the part about when they had been trapped in the alley, it became much more difficult to proceed. For the past several days he had tried to avoid thinking about it; how hopeless they had all felt, and how afraid they had been. He had tried to forget the sad look in the earth dragon's eyes, and the pain Flash had felt when Claymore had refused to heed his own brother's pleas not to leave. When he was finished, Flash turned his gaze away and closed his eyes tightly, trying to forcibly suppress the grief within him. Sarix was silent for several long moments before he finally spoke again in a quiet voice.

"Do you know if he made it out?"

Flash shook his head quickly. "I didn't see. But since he hasn't been seen anywhere in the village since then, maybe he did..."

Sarix nodded slowly, his own gaze distant. Then, when he turned his eyes back on Flash, the light dragon noticed a strange look in them.

"So...you really saw him? The purple dragon?"

Flash immediately tensed, a mixed rush of fear and bitterness sweeping through him, and he turned a hard glare in the direction of the eastern edge of the cavern, where the village's dungeons were said to be located and where, rumour had it, the purple dragon that had launched the attack was being held at that very moment.

"Yeah," he said quietly at length.

There was another long silence after that, and Flash glanced toward Sarix to see him staring at him with a look somewhere between awe and fear on his face.

"Is it true what they said?" he asked. "I mean, that he's only our age?"

Another wave of bitterness came over Flash then at the thought that a dragon their age could cause so much pain, and a part of him wondered why the black dragon was even asking these questions. Why would he want to know more about the dragon that had tried to destroy their homes? At another time, Flash would have probably been just as curious and might even still be in wonder at the prospect of having the purple dragon of legend in their village despite what he had done, but as it was all he could feel now was anger and resentment.

_He took away everything_, he thought, his expression deepening into a dark scowl.

"I don't want to talk about it," he grumbled at length.

"Oh, sure," Sarix said quickly.

Flash gave a tense sigh and turned back down the street again, setting off at a sluggish pace once again. Sarix trotted up next to him. Just then, though, a thoughtful look came over the black dragon's expression.

"Have you tried talking to the elders yet?"

Flash came to a sudden halt again, gazing at the other young dragon quizzically, one brow-ridge arched and his head cocked slightly to the side.

"The elders?"

Sarix nodded. "Yeah. If anyone in the village would know where a dragon might be, it would be them. And if they don't, maybe they can help."

Flash considered this for a moment before giving a stiff shrug. He wasn't entirely keen on the idea of seeing the village elders. However, it wasn't like he had any other better ideas at the moment, so he decided he might as well give the idea a chance.

"Fine," he sighed. "Let's go."

Together, the two young dragons kicked off from the street and took to the air, turning toward the central section of the city where the council building was located, and where it was most likely that the elders would be located. Only a couple of minutes later the building came into view ahead, and Flash and Sarix angled downward to land in the small courtyard below its steps. A couple of earth dragons were slowly working to clear away the large amount of stone debris that was strewn across the steps and the courtyard, focussing especially on the remains of the heavy main doors that had been blown apart by the purple dragon when he had forced his way into the building. Instead of moving toward this door, however, the two young dragons turned to the right and skirted around the side of the building into a smaller street, where the secondary entrance was located; the same entrance Flash had snuck through a few weeks before. When the entrance came into view ahead, they were surprised to find two of the elders exiting the building right at that moment. One was the chief elder earth dragon, and the other was the fire dragon elder.

"Oh," the earth dragon elder said when he noticed the two young dragons approaching. "Young Coronus. I must say it's a surprise to see you here. Was there something you needed? I'm afraid that right now we're a little busy."

"It will only take a minute," Sarix said quickly, glancing toward Flash.

The chief elder sighed. "Very well. What was it you wanted from us?"

"Um," Flash said hesitantly in a quiet tone. He quickly cleared his throat. "I...just wanted to ask if you had heard anyone saying that they had seen my brother..."

A touch of sadness quickly came over the earth dragon's features when he heard the mournful tone in the young dragon's voice and saw the desperate longing in his eyes, and even the fire elder's expression softened slightly. The chief elder gave another sigh.

"I'm afraid not, Coronus," he said, shaking his head apologetically. "As far as we know, he's still unaccounted for."

"But is anyone still looking for him?" Flash asked, his voice taking on a more insistent tone. "Can't you organize a search party to check the area outside the cavern or something? He might have made it out, and—"

"I'm sorry, Coronus, but that's just not possible," the earth dragon elder cut in. "We can't afford to send any more dragons out from the shelter of the cavern than is absolutely necessary. Not when we have no idea where that purple dragon's army is lurking. There's simply nothing more we can do at this point."

Flash was stunned, and for several seconds all he could do was stare up at the larger dragons with hurt, pleading eyes.

"But...But you can't just do _nothing_!" he exclaimed desperately. "I can't find him on my own!"

"I'm very sorry," the elder said again. "I know it is not an easy thing to accept, but it might be time to come to terms with the fact that he may not ever be found."

To Flash those words felt like a savage blow to his stomach, stealing his breath away from him, and he simply gaped at the elder in shock.

"Seven days have passed, Coronus," the earth dragon said, in a gentle tone that, for some reason, only served to make Flash angrier. "Even if he did make it out of the cavern, it is extremely unlikely that he would have been able to evade the grublin army for this long. I'm sorry, but you may just have to accept that he's gone and let him go."

Flash was too stunned to speak for a long moment, a heavy silence pressing down on the group of four dragons. Within him, Flash could feel a growing swell of pain and grief, but most of all of anger at the elder's words. How could he be so dismissive of Claymore's life? How could he just push the matter aside as if he meant nothing?

"You're just like everybody else," he growled finally in a tight, quiet voice, glaring up at the much larger dragon. "You're just going to forget about him, and not even _try_ to find out what happened to him. How can you just give up on him like that, like he doesn't matter at all?" His voice was beginning to crack, and he could feel the sting of tears in his eyes, but his anger was so great that he couldn't stop himself from shouting, "How can you expect me to just let him go and move on when I don't even know if he's alive or not? You think that I can just pretend like nothing's wrong? Well I can't let go! He's the only thing I have!"

With tears now streaming freely from his eyes, Flash turned sharply about and sprinted away as fast as his legs could carry him, hating the elders for their words and hating everyone in the village that had told him the same thing. He wanted nothing more than to be alone in that moment. He didn't pause to acknowledge the looks of shock on the faces of the elders, nor did he heed Sarix's calls. If no one was going to help him, then he didn't want anything to do with any of them.

He kept running until he had crossed half the village, ignoring the startled looks of the dragons he passed in the streets. He didn't head for his home; without his brother there, that place only served to fuel his despair. Instead he simply kept running, without any knowledge of where he was going. Eventually he reached a small, dark alleyway and ducked inside it without hesitation, not stopping until he had nowhere else to go. He then collapsed in the back corner of the dark, narrow space and gave in to his grief, his whole body shaking as his muffled sobs broke out of him.

_Claymore, _he cried in his mind. _Where are you? Come back, please!_

But no matter how much he pleaded, his brother didn't appear.

***.*.***

_How did I ever get myself into this?_

That was the thought that dominated Spyro's mind as he sat motionlessly in his small prison cell, the rise and fall of his chest and shoulders as he breathed being the only motion within the tight space. It had been hours since he had awakened, but it felt significantly longer. Despite his attempts to speak to the guards and convince them that this was all just a terrible mistake, they were ignoring him. He could tell that they were just a short ways farther down the hallway out of sight to his right, for he could occasionally hear them speaking quietly to each other, but they refused to make any kind of response to him when he called out to them. Eventually, he had simply given up.

_If Demetrius did get back to the guardians, how long would it take before they came here and found me?_ he wondered absently.

That is, if they even found him at all, he realized with a small swell of fear. If they did come looking for him, the dungeon was probably the last place they would ever look. What if they had already come and gone, without finding any sign of him?

He quickly pushed the thought from his head, realizing that it would do him no good to worry himself over speculations. Either they would find him eventually, or the guards would eventually agree to free him, or he would be forced to free himself. He desperately wanted to avoid the last course of action as much as possible, but at the same time he knew that he couldn't remain a prisoner forever. If the villagers refused to release him in a reasonable amount of time, he would have no choice but to break out and make his way back to Warfang alone. He could only pray that it didn't come to that.

Just then, out of nothing more than curiosity, Spyro glanced down at the shackles fastened around his forelegs and pulled experimentally on the magical chain binding one of them to the wall, wondering just how difficult it would be to actually free himself from the restraints if the need did arise. Slowly, he reached with his right forepaw toward the shackle fastened around his left foreleg and forced two of his talons between the thick metal band and his scales. Then he quickly tugged against it.

The instant he pulled against the binding, he felt an enormous jolt of some kind of dark magical power shoot up his right foreleg, feeling almost like a severe electric shock. He cried out in pain and immediately pulled his paw back, cringing as an intense, painful tingling sensation swept up the limb and rendered it numb.

"I wouldn't be trying that if I were you."

Spyro started at the sudden voice and whipped his gaze up toward the bars of his cell, through which he could see the electricity dragon guard returning down the corridor with a dark smirk on his features, as if he was amused by Spyro's self-injury. The purple dragon was caught by surprise, however, when three other dragons followed closely behind him. The last one was the earth dragon guard from before, but the other two he had never seen before. He noticed immediately, however, that there was a clear air of authority about their postures and expressions, and he realized that these must be two of the village's elders. One of them was a large earth dragon, almost as big as Terrador was, and by the way he stood slightly ahead of the other dragons Spyro guessed that he was the chief elder of the village. The other was a fire dragon. They both bore dark scowls on their faces at the sight of him.

"What do you mean?" Spyro asked finally, glancing at the electricity dragon again before looking back toward the elders.

"Those restraints are specially designed to...discourage...any attempts to remove them," the earth dragon guard said, grinning ominously. "The more you fight against them, the more they'll hurt you."

"This is actually the first time we've used them since we acquired them years and years ago," the electricity dragon said, a strange tone of what almost sounded like excitement in his voice. "We've been hoping to try them out ever since we captured them from that supply caravan heading north."

"You know, I've always wondered why Cynder left those supplies so poorly defended," the earth dragon guard said to the electricity dragon. "Seemed uncharacteristically sloppy to me."

"Cynder?" Spyro said in surprise.

"Oh, yes," the electricity guard grinned. "She had quite a need for good restraints, as you can imagine, and she seemed to pride herself in having only the best and most...punishing...equipment developed for her fortress."

Both guards chuckled, and Spyro glanced toward the back of the prison at the shackles' anchoring device and realized that it did indeed bear the same dark, menacing style as the rest of Cynder's fortress at Concurrent Skies had. At that moment he felt a strange feeling sweep over him. It was like some kind of twisted irony that something originally built for the dragoness he loved was now the thing that was keeping him from her.

"Enough of this," the lead elder cut in suddenly. "We didn't come here to waste time tormenting him. We came for answers."

He turned his hard gaze upon the purple dragon, and Spyro shrank back anxiously when he saw the unmistakable anger and disgust contained the large dragon's eyes.

"Specifically," he continued, "why did you attack our village?"

"A...attack?" Spyro stammered after a long pause, feeling terribly confused. "But I didn't attack anyone..."

The fire dragon elder snorted disdainfully, and the earth dragon guard rolled his eyes and shook his head. This only served to confuse Spyro further.

"Do you really think that we're going to fall for that?" the fire dragon growled menacingly, causing Spyro to shrink back in fear again. "We all saw you that night. Or have you forgotten what you did to me?"

He gestured with a paw at his chest and flanks, and Spyro gasped quietly when he noticed the dark spots of severe bruises and scratches that were just beginning to heal.

"What...what I did?" he said weakly. "No, there's been a mistake. I've never seen any of you before—"

"Lies!" the fire dragon roared, and Spyro nearly jumped out of his scales at the sudden, fierce sound. "How stupid do you think we are? Did you honestly think that you could just march into our council building, attack us unprovoked, _murder_ one of our comrades, and then we would all just forget about it?"

Spyro was horrified by what he was hearing. _Murder?_ he thought fearfully. _They think that I actually killed someone?_ He couldn't understand how this could be happening, and for a moment he wondered if all of this was really just some terrible dream or delusion. Surely these dragons didn't really think that he was guilty of all the things they were claiming he had done. He had never even been to that village before!

"I will ask you again," the earth dragon elder rumbled impatiently. "What was your true reason for attacking our village seven nights ago?"

"I didn't attack this village!" Spyro exclaimed desperately.

"There must have been more to it than simply being to spread fear like you claimed," the earth dragon continued, ignoring his protest completely. "How could it benefit you to assault this village without any kind of provocation?"

"I'm telling you, I didn't attack you!" Spyro cried. "Seven nights ago I was in Warfang! I swear, it wasn't me!"

"Then I suppose it was your identical twin that assaulted my associate here and threatened me," the elder snorted. "You can give up the act. After seeing you so closely that night, it's impossible to mistake you now as the dragon that attacked us. I'm surprised that you're keeping up this act, when you yourself told me that you would return at the exact time that our guards ambushed you and brought you here."

Spyro was unable to reply, too overwhelmed by all that he was hearing. It was all too much for him to take in.

"Now, I grow tired of this. We know it was you. Now answer my question!"

"I told you, there's been a mistake!" Spyro said pleadingly. "I was in Warfang! Ask the guardians, they'll tell you!"

"We would, except that any messenger we've tried to send out of the caverns has immediately been intercepted by your army. We only know this because one of them somehow managed to make it back to the cavern and tell us before he succumbed to his injuries."

"What...An army? What army? I didn't see anything when I came here."

"You still insist on wasting our time with these ridiculous lies?"

"They're not lies! I swear!"

The elder growled with frustration and allowed his gaze to drop to the ground, shaking his head slowly and bringing a paw up to his brow.

"I see that you insist on being difficult," he sighed at length. "Have it your way, then. Let's see how willing you are to talk after another few days trapped down here."

"What?" Spyro exclaimed, jerking back in shock. "You're just going to leave me down here?"

"Unless you change your mind about talking to us."

"But I've been telling you the truth the whole time!"

The earth dragon elder sighed again, shaking his head once more, and the fire dragon elder's expression turned to a scowl of utter disgust.

"You leave us no choice, then. I would have hoped to avoid resorting to this for a dragon your age, but you have made your decision, and I'm afraid that you've forced my paw. Perhaps after a couple more days of confinement, you will reconsider."

Spyro could only watch helplessly as the elder dragon turned his gaze away and began walking down the dark hallway back in the direction he'd come. Soon he had disappeared from sight. The fire dragon elder lingered for a moment longer.

"Watch him carefully," he instructed in a gruff voice. "We all know what he's capable of."

"If he tries anything, he'll regret it," the earth dragon guard said firmly, shooting a quick glare out of the corner of his eye at Spyro.

"Good. And don't be gentle on him if it comes to that, either. He's already getting far better than he deserves, in my opinion."

With one final distasteful scowl at Spyro the fire dragon turned sharply and padded off down the hallway, soon disappearing from Spyro's line of vision as well.

"Hey, wait!" Spyro called desperately, rushing forward to try and get another look at the departing elder but getting pulled roughly back by the magical chains. "Please, I'm telling you, this is all a mistake! I didn't do anything!"

"Get back from the bars!" the electricity dragon snapped harshly, causing Spyro to jump and scramble back farther into the cell.

The two guards gave low growls and fixed him with a pair of menacing glares, and Spyro shuddered slightly and forced a difficult swallow as he felt an extreme anxiety rising within him, wondering what they might do to him. To his mild relief, however, they turned and began to leave.

"Don't try anything funny," the electricity dragon growled as they left. "Those restraints will deal out punishment just fine, but I would be more than happy to add a few jolts in here and there. Just give me a reason."

With that the two guards disappeared down the hallway, heading to their unseen post in the corridor and leaving Spyro alone.

Feeling utterly helpless, confused, and most of all scared, the young purple dragon plodded to the back corner of the cell before curling up in a tight ball on the hard stone floor and trying to keep warm in the cold underground space.

_How did this happen?_ he wondered despairingly.

These dragons seemed so certain that he was the one that had done so much damage to their village, and now he was beginning to fear that he was never going to be able to convince them otherwise. How was he going to make them believe that there was no possible way that they had seen what they had claimed to have seen? They all seemed adamant that _he_ had been the one to attack them, that they had even seen him up close and _fought_ with him!

_How is that possible?_

With no answers, and seemingly no hope, Spyro laid his head down on his forepaws and tried to just forget about all that was happening, trying to picture himself safely back in Warfang where he so desperately wanted to be in that moment.

Still, deep inside, he knew that, short of a miracle, it would most likely be a long time before he saw the great dragon city again...

* * *

><p><strong>Ok, so one thing to quickly point out: The character Sarix that appeared in this chapter does not belong to me. He belongs to Talon the Dragon, who loaned him to me for a small role in this story. You can see more of him in Talon's and Kauzul's collab fic 'The Last Rebellion'. Check it out; it's a good read.<strong>

**So, happy now? Spyro's fate is revealed, and it doesn't seem like he's doing too well. How will this situation resolve itself? Stay tuned to find out!**

**Until next time...**


	19. Chapter 18

**Okay, so good news! My exams have officially been over for a few days now, and that means that I no longer have studying taking up all my time! Hooray!**

**However, at the same time, it's now the holidays, which means that I'm busy doing holiday stuff and visiting with family, so if I had been hoping that Christmas break would mean lots of quick updating, I was wrong. *shrugs* Oh well...**

**Anyway, here's another chapter for all my readers. Hope you like it!**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 18:<span>_

"...And so, while Spyro decides to just konk out and have a nice little nap, I selflessly fly out and trick all the pirates into chasing _me_ before they can spot him, saving him from an almost certain, excruciating demise."

Sparx grinned smugly as the two female dragonflies, one a soft blue in colour and the other a bright pink, laughed delightedly from their seats atop a low mushroom cap a little more than a foot away from where he was hovering in a conveniently-placed ray of sunlight, where he had been retelling and acting out his adventures. For the past hour he had captivated them with tales of his greatly-undervalued heroics during his and Spyro's adventures, and he was very much enjoying the responses he was getting.

_If only Spyro could see me now_, he thought with a quiet chuckle. _Finally, I get a little of the appreciation!_

"You, sir, are one brave dragonfly," the blue dragonfly giggled with a wide grin from her perch, and while there was a clear teasing note of humour in her tone, there was a hint of admiration as well that didn't go unnoticed by Sparx. "Taking on a band of vicious pirates all by your lonesome. Who would'a thought?"

"But seriously," the pink dragonfly cut in, crossing her arms with a smirk. "You had to have been a least a _little_ scared."

"Of course I was," Sparx replied evenly, which elicited a light, amused snort from the females, who exchanged glances and a grin. "I was scared for my brother. Who knows what those filthy mutts would have done to him if they'd had the chance?"

"Well, wasn't that sweet of you?" the blue dragonfly smirked.

"Yeah, well, what can I say?" Sparx sighed with a shrug. "I'm a sucker when it comes to that big purple lug. Someone's gotta look after him, after all."

"And I bet he didn't even say thank you," the pink female chuckled.

"Not even once," Sparx sniffed, shaking his head. "You believe that? After all that I do for the guy, he doesn't even think to take the time to say, 'Gee, thanks Sparx for not deserting me back there.' But _noooo_..."

"Well, what can you expect from a _big hero_?" asked the pink dragonfly wryly, turning a look at her companion, who shrugged. "He must have always been too busy _saving the world_ to acknowledge his little insect brother."

"Really, though, that is pretty unfair," the blue dragonfly commented, actually becoming serious for a rare moment and turning to face Sparx. "I mean, when you _really_ think about it, there were a few times when he would have been in some pretty dire straits if you hadn't been looking out for him all the time."

"True," the other female agreed with a nod of her head. "It's a shame everyone in that big fancy dragon city doesn't see that."

"Yeah, well," Sparx grunted with a sigh. "What can you expect, really? I mean, it's a _dragon_ city, after all, so it's only natural that they all pay attention to the _dragon_, I suppose."

"Well, I say somebody should do something about that," the blue dragonfly declared emphatically.

"You could just stay here, too," the pink dragonfly pointed out suddenly. "Then you could get a little more respect on a daily basis."

"Yeah, it would be fun to have the _mighty_ Sparx around to thrill us all with tales of his grand adventures."

Both females burst out in gleeful laughter once again, but it was easy enough to see that, despite the teasing, there _was_ a genuine note in the suggestion, and Sparx blushed slightly but chuckled as well.

"I'm sure he's very tempted by that offer."

Sparx and the two females jumped slightly at the sudden new voice, and they all looked up to see a larger blue dragonfly fluttering into sight from around the stalk of a nearby giant mushroom, his arms crossed over his chest and a wry smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, pops," Sparx called out cheerily, waving one hand. "What's up?"

"I was actually looking for you," Flash chuckled in reply. "Your mother and I were just talking, and we were wondering if you shouldn't be heading back to Warfang right about now?"

"What?" both female dragonflies exclaimed, a note of mild disappointment hanging in their voices, for despite their teasing they had been enjoying Sparx's stories.

"Already?" Sparx said in surprise. "But I was just getting used to being back."

"I can see that," Flash grinned. "But it _has_ been almost a week. Weren't you saying that the dragon guardians sent you here to report on the state of our home after the war? Because that usually involves actually going back and telling them what you found."

"Yeah, but..." Sparx began to protest, looking around at his situation and feeling greatly reluctant to leave it. At length, though, he heaved a heavy sigh when he realized that his father was right. "Yeah, I guess."

"I knew you would see reason," his father chuckled. "Come on; your mother's already gathering some things for you for the trip back. We probably shouldn't keep her waiting."

"Oh, fine," Sparx grumbled, hovering over to follow his father.

"Aww," the two female dragonflies moaned.

"Sorry ladies," Flash smirked as he placed a hand on his son's shoulder to help push him along.

Sparx glanced back over his shoulder as he allowed his father to guide him away and saw the two females watching him leave with disappointed expressions, and the feeling of reluctance returned to him in force. When the pink and blue dragonflies disappeared around the stalk of the mushroom tree his father had appeared around, Sparx let out a sad sigh.

"Cheer up, son," his father chuckled. "You know that it can't be helped. You have responsibilities now. That's what comes with being a big hero."

Sparx scowled when he detected the amused tone in his father's voice and turned a glare up at the larger dragonfly, which only caused him to laugh.

"Besides, I'm sure you're eager to see your brother again."

This caused Sparx to hesitate, and eventually he was forced to admit that his father was right. It was now the morning of the eighth day since his departure from Warfang, and he truly was beginning to miss the purple dragon.

"Yeah, you're right," he sighed finally. "Besides, I promised him that I'd let him know how everyone here was doing. It wouldn't be right to keep him waiting for an answer much longer."

His father merely grunted and gave a small nod.

A few minutes later Sparx saw his family's mushroom-cap home come into view ahead, and he and Flash quickly fluttered up to the small opening and darted inside, finding themselves within the warmly-lit and spacious living room chamber inside the home. Upon entering, they found Nina just coming into the living room from one of the smaller side-rooms on the left.

"Oh, good, you found him," she said when she saw Sparx hovering by his father's side. "Here, I prepared a few things for you for the trip back."

She produced a small bag from behind her back and held it out, and Sparx hesitantly reached forward and took it from her. The bag was extremely simple in design, made up of interwoven, silver silk threads with a strap designed so that he could hang it off his shoulder without it getting in the way of his wings. Curiously he opened the top of the bag and peered inside.

"I filled it with a few things I thought you might like to have with you while you were living in Warfang."

Sparx quickly rummaged through the inside of the bag, taking stock of its contents. Mostly it was just practical items, like a moss-sponge for cleaning his wings and other objects of the sort. While he was slightly embarrassed that his mother would have packed such things for him, in truth he was also grateful—Warfang, it seemed, was woefully short on dragonfly living supplies, and these items would help in making living there just slightly more comfortable. Aside from these supplies there were also a few sentimental items, such as the small pebble collection he'd gathered over his childhood.

"You know, you really didn't need to worry about all this stuff," he commented as he pulled the small family portrait he usually kept in his room from the bag, which depicted him in between his parents, with a much smaller Spyro sitting just beneath them. "I was fine without any of this—"

"I also put in a few of those homemade butterfly rolls you love," Nina continued, not even hearing him.

"Ooh!" Sparx exclaimed immediately in a high-pitched voice, plunging his hand into the bag eagerly and withdrawing the small wrapped bundle that contained the treats. He sighed with pleasure and his mouth began to water when the familiar aroma wafted up to him.

"Don't eat them all at once," his mother laughed. "Now, Flash, come over here and give me a hand. My bag's almost ready, but there's just a few things I can't decide on."

"Your bag?" Sparx said, looking up with a puzzled expression.

"Of course," his mother replied. "Your father and I are going to need a few things for ourselves if we're going to come with you."

"Wait, what?" Sparx blurted. "Coming where with who now?"

"We're going with you to Warfang!" Nina said in a mildly exasperated but amused tone. "Honestly, it's not a difficult concept, Sparx."

"Warfang? What do you mean, going to Warfang? Like to stay?"

Those last words came out with a slightly more panicky note to them than Sparx had intended, and upon hearing this his mother turned a stern frown in his direction, though there was still a bright twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

"To visit, honey," she chuckled. "Really, you make it sound like the end of the world."

Sparx cringed at the words 'end of the world', the memory of the cataclysm that had almost claimed all their lives still vividly fresh in his mind, but his parents didn't seem to notice.

"No, we decided that if Spyro can't come to see us, then we're going to go see him," Nina declared with a note of finality about her voice. "And besides, it will be interesting to see where you boys are living now. I can't imagine how different it must be from the swamp. A dragon city. Oh, I can hardly wait."

"You're serious about this?" Sparx exclaimed. "I mean, it's a really long trip, you know, and it might be dangerous too. The world out there is a pretty messy place."

"Why, Sparx, you make it sound like you don't want us to come," Nina smirked. "Are you too embarrassed to have your parents following you around your big fancy city?"

"What?" Sparx gulped. "No, no, I didn't mean it like...You just caught me by surprise, that's all." He paused hesitantly, but then a small smile began forming at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sure the big guy will be happy to see you guys, though."

Flash and Nina both paused in their preparations, a pair of wistful smiles forming on their faces, and they chuckled quietly.

"It will be good to see him again," Flash chuckled. "From what you tell us, it sounds like he's changed so much over these past couple of years."

"I know!" Nina exclaimed. "I feel like I won't even be able to recognize him when we get there!"

"Oh, he's not too hard to pick out of a crowd," Sparx grinned. "I wouldn't worry too much about it."

His parents both chuckled again before resuming their final preparations, which mostly entailed Flash helping Nina narrow down the amount of possessions she thought they needed to bring. Fortunately, when the packing was finished, the bag she brought out with her was hardly any larger than Sparx's, and it looked as though it wouldn't cause any trouble on the long trip.

"Alright, I suppose we should get on our way, then," Flash declared as he glanced around to make certain that everyone had everything they needed. "Son, lead the way."

"You got it," Sparx nodded sharply. He quickly turned about to face the main door of their small home and waved an arm. "Come on, and brace yourselves. We have a long flight ahead of us."

"Oh, this is so exciting," he heard his mother whisper eagerly.

Together, the three dragonflies took off from their home and Sparx quickly angled them toward the canopy of the swampy forest, deciding that they might as well take advantage of the clear skies to follow an unobstructed route that might save them some time. With his parents following right behind him, he turned toward the south-west and picked up the pace, feeling a small swell of sadness as their village disappeared behind them. Still, that feeling was dwarfed in comparison to the rising excitement he felt at the prospect of returning to Warfang and seeing his brother again.

With any luck, their family would be reunited in no more than two days' time.

***.*.***

In the absolute quiet of the late morning, there was nothing but the gentle, warm breeze that blew in over the sea to break the stillness. The soft currents of air twisted and meandered almost playfully across the rooftops of the enormous city, bringing with them a sense of peacefulness that, in recent days, had been difficult to come by. In combination with the rays of the barely-risen sun that cast the land in their warm glow, it seemed like the makings of a perfect day.

For a certain black dragoness, however, even the peace and serenity of that morning wasn't enough to entirely drive away the heavy feeling that tugged at her heart. Cynder breathed a long, slow sigh as she sat on the edge of the temple's rooftop garden, gazing out over the sea to the south with its sparkling blue-green waters, trying to forget about the unease and the trouble that had plagued her for the past several days, trying to simply enjoy the warmth of the sun as its light soaked into her black scales. Still, no matter how hard she tried, she was unable to completely push aside the feeling of loneliness that seemed to follow her everywhere those days.

She subconsciously began picking at the bandage wrapping that was still tied around her right shoulder with one of her talons as her mind drifted off. What could be taking Spyro so long, she wondered? By all reckoning he should have been back from the mountain village days ago, and yet there was no sign of him at all. It was practically killing her, waiting and hoping for some kind of news that all was well. With what had happened to her, and at the eastern city as well, she couldn't help but think that something terrible must have befallen her purple companion. What other explanation was there?

She was so caught up in these thoughts that she didn't notice the large dragon that was approaching from behind her until he was barely a few feet from her. The sound of a forepaw brushing suddenly against the rooftop walkway was what finally alerted her to the presence of the intruder, and with a startled gasp she spun around in an instant to face the newcomer, her body immediately going rigid.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Cyril said with a sheepish expression on his face. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Cynder let out a long breath and gradually allowed the tension to leave her body. Slowly she turned back so that she was facing the sea again and sat back on her haunches. Cyril moved up and took a seat a few feet to her right only a moment later.

"Is there something you needed me for?" Cynder asked at length, never once taking her eyes off the sea that glimmered like gemstones in the light of the rising sun.

"No," Cyril replied after a brief pause, and Cynder thought she heard him let out a quiet sigh. "I expect that I'm here for the same reasons you are, young one."

Cynder gave a short grunt. "A lot on your mind?"

Cyril sighed again, much more loudly this time, and Cynder glanced briefly up at him out of the corner of her eye to see that his expression was grim, his mouth drawn into a tight line.

"Indeed," he said finally. "And once again, I suspect that these troubles are the same as yours."

Cynder allowed her gaze to fall toward the cobblestone path beneath her paws, and now it was her turn to sigh.

"Spyro."

Cyril nodded. "The scouts that we dispatched to the mountain village have not returned, though they should have been back yesterday at the latest. We are still without even the tiniest scrap of news concerning the state of that village, and I begin to grow deeply concerned."

A tense silence settled between them, and for several minutes it seemed as though neither of them could come up with any words to break the gloomy quiet. Finally, though, Cynder spoke up.

"No new word from the eastern city either?"

Cyril shook his head. "I wouldn't trouble myself too much about that, though. Terrador is a fine warrior, even if he may no longer be in his prime. It would take quite some doing to prevent him from returning safely with the rest of our companions."

Cynder nodded her head absently, feeling slightly more reassured by the ice guardian's words. She happened to know firsthand the tenacity of the powerful earth dragon in combat, and so she felt that she could be confident that he, Sirius, and the rest of their companions in the eastern city would be safe.

"I'm sure all this worry will be for nothing in the end," the ice dragon added suddenly, and Cynder glanced up at him quizzically. "After all, Spyro has proven that he is more than capable of taking care of himself in difficult situations. As with Terrador, I'm certain that nothing any grublins can throw at him will be able to keep him from us."

Cynder gave a small smile at the guardian's encouraging words, but at the same time she could still make out the hint of doubt in his tone and expression. She sighed quietly again and turned her gaze away, looking wistfully out over the city.

_You had better be safe, Spyro_, she thought. _I hope you come back soon._

Just then, she was suddenly aware of the sound of soft footsteps behind her, and with a small frown on her face she glanced back over her shoulder to see a mole approaching. The short creature stopped when he was a half-dozen feet away from the two dragons and cleared his throat quickly for attention. At the sound, Cyril half-turned to gaze at the mole out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes, what is it?" he asked with a mild sigh.

"Master Cyril, miss Cynder, I was asked to inform you immediately; Master Terrador and Master Sirius have been spotted approaching from the east."

"Really?" Cynder exclaimed immediately, all her previous concern and worry replaced by surprise.

"Alone?" Cyril added.

The mole shook his head. "There appear to be a number of hundreds of dragons accompanying them. Residences in the northern sector of the city have already been alerted and are preparing accommodations for the newcomers. I thought you would like to be informed that Master Terrador and the others will likely be arriving in a matter of minutes."

"Well, it looks as though I was correct after all," Cyril declared proudly, glancing down to his side at Cynder. "You see? Nothing to worry about." Then he turned back to the mole. "If Terrador does as I expect he will and comes to the temple first, would you please inform him that I will be waiting for him in the northern courtyard? I think I will head down there and check on the preparations. Ancestors know we don't want to deal with the chaos we went through with the citizens from the northern city."

He rolled his eyes emphatically to accompany his last words, and Cynder stifled a quiet chuckle. The mole, meanwhile, gave a sharp nod of his head.

"As you wish, Master Cyril. Good day."

And with that the furry creature turned on his heel and scurried off into the temple once again. When he was gone, Cynder turned her gaze eastward and scanned the horizon. She couldn't see anyone approaching yet, but if the mole's report was correct then that would change very shortly.

"Well, I'm off," Cyril said a moment later.

"I'll come too," Cynder called to him as he turned to leave.

Cyril paused for a moment and shot her a quizzical look, apparently surprised by her decision, but Cynder wanted to hear all that Terrador had to report concerning the events at the eastern city, and Cyril seemed to quickly realize this. He chuckled quietly.

"Very well. Shall we, then?"

Cynder nodded, and together the two dragons took to the skies and beat their wings rapidly for the northern edge of the city. Within a few minutes they were passing low over the rooftops of the city's northern edge, and below in the streets Cynder noticed a somewhat raised level of activity surrounding a number of the larger residence buildings, and even some of the larger separate homes that had previously been unoccupied. Then, a minute later she and Cyril began to glide down toward the main northern courtyard just inside the gate that was approaching ahead. They touched down easily just outside of the edge of the courtyard, careful to avoid the moles in the streets. Almost immediately Cyril turned away and departed to begin his inspection of the residences' preparations, leaving Cynder alone. She didn't mind. She simply moved over until she was in the shadow of a nearby building corner and sat back on her haunches facing the courtyard, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Terrador so that she could hear all that had happened since his and Sirius's departure.

Several minutes later, though, she noticed some activity over by the gate and looked just in time to see the large, stone and wood doors creaking open. Suddenly curious, she leaned forward and narrowed her eyes as she tried to make out who could be coming through the gate at this time...

***.*.***

"Oh, dear sweet Ancestors, I think my wings are about to fall off," Sparx moaned as he drew to an unsteady hover just inside the edge of a small stand of trees. "Lemme just have a minute here..."

"That sounds like a good idea," Flash grunted from close behind him as he slid his travelling pack off his shoulder and rubbed his neck.

Sparx likewise lifted his bag off of his sore shoulder and quickly fluttered over to a wide crook in a nearby tree branch. Once he reached it he dropped the bag onto the top of the branch and immediately flopped down on his back beside it, groaning wearily. He and his parents had made surprisingly good time on the trip to Warfang from the swamp, but the pace they had flown at had drained him thoroughly. He ached all over.

_This would be a _really_ good time for Spyro to be here,_ he thought. _Then we could all just get a ride_.

Having a dragon for a brother certainly had its advantages, Sparx decided. Still, that didn't mean much when said brother wasn't around.

Still, the three dragonflies had been fortunate in their travels so far. The weather had been clear all the way since leaving the swamp, and when night had fallen after the first day of flying they'd had no trouble locating a sheltered place to spend the night in safety. They hadn't encountered any troubles along the way, either, though Sparx remained constantly wary for any signs of grublins or any other unsavoury creatures. Fortunately, he hadn't spotted any indications of the presence of any unfriendly beings, and he was immensely grateful for that.

"So, how much farther is this city?" Nina asked a moment later, the weariness clear in her voice as she spoke between heavy breaths.

Sparx didn't answer. Instead he merely gave a grunt and waved with a heavy hand toward the east. Frowning in confusion, both Flash and Nina turned their gazes in the direction Sparx had indicated and fluttered over closer to the edge of the trees. Almost immediately they gave quiet gasps of surprise when they saw the proud city standing tall on the horizon.

"It's enormous," Nina breathed in absolute awe.

"No kidding," Flash snorted. "Sparx, when you said this place was big, I never imagined that you meant _this_ big!"

"Do you and Spyro really live there?" Nina said in disbelief. "How do you manage living in a city that huge?"

"You get used to it," Sparx grunted in reply.

"I don't think I would ever be able to get used to living in a place like that," Nina said immediately with a shake of her head.

"Yeah, well, just wait until you see it from the inside," Sparx chuckled.

"I can hardly wait," Flash said with a smile. "You almost ready to keep going, son?"

"Yeah, just a minute more," Sparx grunted.

True to his word, Sparx was ready to continue after a mere few moments longer, deciding that the city was close enough that he could just rest once he got there. Together, he and his parents left the cover of the trees and entered the large, open plain that surrounded Warfang. As they flew the city continued to grow larger and larger until it seemed to be the only thing visible before them, blotting out the entire horizon. As they drew nearer to the wall, however, Sparx's parents seemed to suddenly notice that their son was growing strangely quiet.

"Is something wrong, honey?" his mother asked after another few minutes had passed in complete silence.

"Huh?" Sparx grunted, glancing over his shoulder to see that both of his parents were watching him closely with expressions of mild concern. He gave an evasive shrug. "No."

"Sparx," Flash said, crossing his arms over his chest and giving a look that was equally stern and amused. "You can't fool us, son. What's bothering you? Aren't you glad to be back?"

"Yeah, sure, I am," Sparx nodded quickly. "It's just that..."

"Just that what?" his father pressed. "You aren't excited to see your brother?"

"Are you kidding?" Sparx exclaimed. "Of course I'm excited to see the big guy! It's just that, nowadays, seeing him again automatically means seeing Miss Terror again, and I was just getting used to _not_ having to worry about where she was going to jump out at me next."

He shuddered violently all over his body, and both his parents rolled their eyes and sighed.

"Honestly, Sparx, she can't be that bad," Nina said. "I couldn't imagine that Spyro would like her as much as you say he does if she was."

Flash nodded his head firmly in agreement, and this time it was Sparx's turn to sigh emphatically.

"Just you wait. I swear, it's impossible not to get chills when she's around. You'll see."

With that Sparx returned his gaze to the front. Behind him he thought he heard his father give a low grunt, and he imagined that his parents must be exchanging a sceptical look behind his back, but he didn't bother to check. They had almost reached the city, and now the wall loomed high over their heads, practically blocking out the sun.

As he guided his parents toward the main gate, Sparx noticed that they were looking up at the massive stone wall with looks of pure shock and awe on their faces, and he couldn't help but chuckle to himself and grin at their expressions. Still, he couldn't blame them for their reactions; if his own arrival into the city hadn't coincided with the chaos of an attempted invasion by Malefor's army, he probably would have reacted the exact same way.

"Alright, we're here," he declared a couple of minutes later as they reached the city's main gate.

Flash let out a low whistle, resting his hands against his sides. "That is one _big_ front door."

"No kidding," Sparx chuckled. "I never use it, personally, but I figure that it's only polite to get let in instead of barging in on our own. Now, how do you open this thing...?"

He frowned in thought as he examined the solid gate before them, searching for some way to signal the guards on the inside to open it. When he quickly realized that there was no such means of requesting entrance on the gate itself, he backed up a few feet and directed his gaze up toward the ramparts.

"Hey, anyone home?" he called out loudly.

Only a moment later the helmeted head of a mole guard appeared over the edge of the wall, and Sparx waved quickly up at him.

"Hey, how's it going?" Sparx asked.

"Oh, you're young Master Spyro's brother, I take it," the mole said after squinting at the golden dragonfly for a moment.

Sparx turned a small frown in the direction of his parents and motioned with an open hand up at the mole.

"Master Spyro's brother," he sighed. "You see what I've been saying? No appreciation."

His parents chuckled and shook their heads with amusement.

"Just hold on a moment," the mole called down to them. Then his he quickly pulled his head back and disappeared from sight. Only a few seconds later the large gates started to grind slowly open.

Sparx and his parents quickly advanced through the narrow gap that opened in between the gate's enormous double doors, soon emerging in the bright northern courtyard. As soon as they were within the walls the sounds of the city washed over them like a tidal wave, the voices of hundreds of moles intermingling and creating a constant drone that, strangely, Sparx found he had almost missed during his time back in the swamp. Then, once they were safely through and the gates had swung closed behind them, Sparx turned about so that he was facing his parents and spread his arms out wide.

"Mom, Dad, welcome to Warfang," he said with a broad grin.

He almost thought that they hadn't heard him as they hovered there gaping out at the enormous city that was spread out before them. They appeared completely overwhelmed by the high levels of activity in the streets and the sheer size of everything around them. Sparx couldn't keep from chuckling to himself when he saw their wide-eyed expressions, and he imagined that it must be quite a shock to them to see a city so large after spending their whole lives in the small, peaceful village in the swamp.

"I can't believe it," Nina said in barely more than a whisper. "It's so big..."

"And busy," Flash added, his gaze sweeping over the many moles that were scurrying about in the streets, moving between buildings with unknown purpose or mingling in the streets. The blue dragonfly frowned. "But I don't understand. I thought you said this was a dragon city. How come the only creatures I see here are moles, then?"

"Oh, they're around," Sparx replied, waving a hand casually. "You see, it was the moles that built this whole place, so really it's a dragon _and_ mole city, and at the moment there are a _lot_ more moles than dragons living here. You know, the whole war and everything."

"Oh, I see," Nina said, giving a small nod.

"Don't worry, though," Sparx said nonchalantly. "You'll see the dragons often enough still. They're always around. In fact, why don't I take you guys up to the temple so that you can meet the guardians that I was telling you about?"

His parents looked as if they were about to reply, but just then, for no reason that Sparx could see, they seemed to just freeze. They were both staring at him with looks of surprise on their features, as if something he had said had caught them off guard.

"Mom?" Sparx said hesitantly. "Dad? What's up?"

Neither of them replied; they just continued to stare. However, it was at that moment that Sparx realized that they didn't actually seem to be looking at him, but rather past him at something. At the same time he felt a strange, inexplicable chill run through him when he thought he detected another presence nearby. Slowly, anxiously, he began turning around, looking back over his shoulder. When he did, he immediately found himself staring into a pair of bright emerald eyes that seemed to be sparkling with wicked humour.

"Hey Sparx!"

Sparx let out a shrill scream and immediately shot a couple of metres back through the air, sheer terror exploding through him and making his heart feel like it had stopped beating. He came to a hover barely a foot in front of his parents, and for a moment he was frozen in place as his fear coursed through him. A second later, though, when he realized who he was looking at, he felt himself relax marginally.

"Cynder!" he moaned, clutching at his chest with one hand as he let out a long breath. "What's the big idea? Are you _trying_ to kill me of a heart attack or something?"

The black dragoness chuckled and shot the dragonfly an evil-looking smirk of pure amusement, her eyes gleaming brightly with pleasure at the scare she'd given Sparx.

"Now why would I do something like that?" she asked with mock innocence.

Sparx groaned loudly and covered his face with a palm, already regretting returning to the dragon city and dreading the torture of the next few days as he once again had to adjust to life in proximity to the smug-looking dragoness. Then he half-turned toward his parents and motioned with his right hand toward Cynder.

"And on that note, Mom and Dad, allow me to introduce Lady Nightmare herself."

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Cynder's expression change immediately to one of surprise, her eyes widening considerably in an instant.

"Mom and Dad?" she repeated. She quickly leaned her head to the side so that she could get a look at Flash and Nina past Sparx. "You're Spyro's and Sparx's parents?"

For a moment it seemed that both dragonflies were too stunned by the dragoness's sudden appearance to say anything, but then they both shook their heads roughly as they brought themselves back to reality.

"We certainly are," Flash said, moving around from behind Sparx and approaching a few feet closer to the dragoness. "The name's Flash."

"And you can call me Nina," Nina added as she hurried up to Flash's side. "So, you're the one that our boy's developed such a thing for."

Cynder seemed caught unprepared for such a statement, and she cleared her throat and glanced away in embarrassment before the edges of her mouth began to curl up in a hesitant smile.

"I guess you could say that," she said finally with a slightly nervous-sounding chuckle. Then her smile took on a much easier air, and inclining her head respectfully she added, "I'm very happy to meet you both."

"The pleasure's all ours," Flash said immediately with a broad smile.

"Yes, any friend of our Spyro is a friend of ours," Nina added brightly.

Sparx stifled a snort and rolled his eyes emphatically, a feeling of exasperation growing within him.

_Great_, he moaned inwardly. _Now not only is Spyro crazy for her, but my parents already love her! Oh, that dragoness is going to be the death of me for sure!_

Just at that moment his parents and Cynder seemed to notice his disgusted expression, and they all turned toward him with smirks on their faces.

"Really, Sparx, I don't see what the big issue is," his father chuckled.

"I don't know what you were always complaining about," Nina added. "She seems like a perfectly pleasant dragoness to me."

Behind his parents, Cynder shot Sparx a dark, triumphant grin. Sparx moaned and brought his hand to his brow again, rubbing his temples wearily as if to try and stave off a headache. This nightmare was just getting worse and worse. However, at that moment a new thought suddenly hit him, and when he glanced around and saw that Cynder was alone in the courtyard his curiosity got the better of him.

"So, where is everybody?" he asked, glancing around the courtyard again. "Where's Spyro? This has to be the first time since you guys came back to the city that I've seen one of you without the other one stuck to your side."

Sparx gave a puzzled frown when he saw Cynder's expression immediately cloud with what looked like worry.

"Well..." she began uncertainly.

Just at that moment, however, she was interrupted when the deep pounding of dragon wing beats sounded across the courtyard, and Sparx looked up just in time to see two dragons descending toward them from the north. As they landed, he immediately recognized Terrador and Sirius. Barely an instant after they touched down, Cyril also appeared out of the streets beyond the courtyard's northern boundary, and at the same time Sparx saw Hunter come running down the street as well, coming to a stop beside Cyril.

"Ah, Terrador, there you are!" the ice dragon called out happily as his fellow guardian folded his wings. "I see that you've returned safe and sound. I take it there wasn't too much trouble at the eastern city?"

"I wish that were the case, old friend," Terrador replied with a heavy sigh. "The city had been breached by the grublins by the time we arrived. Fortunately, we were able to drive them back until we were able to evacuate."

Cyril's expression quickly sobered, and he gave a slow nod. "Well, it's good to see that you are all unharmed at least." Then he shifted his gaze toward Cynder and the dragonflies. "And I see that you've finally decided to make your return as well, young Sparx. I should have known you would take your time with your report. And it appears that you've returned with company. Who might this be?"

Sparx glanced back toward his parents and couldn't keep the smirk off his face when he saw the two of them gaping at the three large dragons that had so suddenly just appeared with wide eyes, appearing completely stunned by the size of the creatures.

"Oh...my..." Nina said weakly.

"These are my parents," Sparx said to the guardians and to Hunter. "Mom, Dad, these are some friends of mine."

"Your parents?" Terrador said in surprise. Then, immediately, his expression brightened, and he inclined his head in what almost looked like a bow. "It is indeed an honour to meet you both. My name is Terrador, and I am the guardian of earth here in Warfang."

"Um," Flash began hesitantly, struggling to overcome his shock. Swallowing hard, he continued, "It's a pleasure. I'm Flash."

"And I'm Nina," Nina added in a slightly quiet voice.

Next Cyril stepped forward, holding his head high and puffing his chest out proudly. "Cyril, guardian and master of the noble element of ice, at your service," he declared.

"And this here is Sirius, fire guardian in training," Terrador added, gesturing with a folded wing toward the fire dragon standing by his side.

Sirius nodded his head in greeting with a kind smile. "It's nice to meet you," he said.

Flash and Nina returned the nod, looking more at ease now as their surprise wore off. Then they both turned toward Hunter, who had remained silent until this point. The cheetah took a couple of soundless steps forward before inclining his head toward the two dragonflies. Then he looked up with a light smile on his features.

"My name is Hunter of Avalar," he said. "And it is a pleasure to meet you both. Your sons are good friends of mine. I'm sure you are both very proud of them."

Flash and Nina smiled broadly and nodded immediately.

"We are," Flash said, glancing warmly toward Sparx, and the golden dragonfly quickly looked away from embarrassment and rubbed the back of his head, though he smiled gratefully as well.

"And indeed you should be," Terrador said with a small chuckle. Then he turned toward Cyril. "And on that subject, what of our young friend? Has there been any news since we departed?"

Cyril sighed and shook his head, a troubled look coming over his expression that immediately caused Sparx to become uneasy.

"I am afraid not," the ice guardian said. "He has yet to return to the city, as well as the scouts we sent. There is no word on his whereabouts."

"Hold on," Sparx cut in suddenly, quickly moving closer to the group of dragons. "What do you mean? Isn't Spyro here?"

Flash and Nina exchanged a quick, worried glance before looking back up that the guardians with expressions of anxiety growing on their faces. Sparx, likewise, could feel a sense of fear rising within him. Something about Cyril's tone _really_ didn't sit well with him.

"I'm afraid not," Cyril replied, shaking his head apologetically. "We haven't seen him since he departed for the hidden village in the mountains over a week ago. There has been no word from the village whatsoever in that time."

"You mean he's missing?" Nina exclaimed in a fearful voice, and Flash quickly rested a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to reassure her, though his own expression was tight and he looked up expectantly at the guardians.

"Do you think something happened to him?" Sparx asked.

"We don't know," Cynder replied sadly with a shake of her head. "I'm really starting to worry about him. It's not like him to just disappear like this."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time," Sparx grumbled. "Man, why does that big purple dope always have to get himself into trouble like this?"

"Who's getting into trouble now?"

The gathered dragons, dragonflies and cheetah all jumped at the sudden voice, and all as one they whirled around toward the western edge of the courtyard where the voice had come from. Immediately they all froze in shock when their eyes fell on the speaker, striding toward them from the streets beyond the courtyard.

"Spyro?" Cynder gasped.

The purple dragon drew to a halt a few metres away from the gathering and let his gaze sweep over them all as they stared at him in surprise, a look of bewilderment written all over his features.

"What's going on?" he asked, sounding deeply puzzled and as if he was completely oblivious to anything being wrong.

Immediately Cynder let out a joyful laugh, and before anyone knew it she had rushed forward and grabbed Spyro in a massive embrace, causing him to stumble slightly in surprise as she grabbed on to him with her forelegs and wings.

"Spyro, you're back!" she exclaimed happily. "Thank the Ancestors, you're alright!"

"Of course I'm alright," he chuckled, though the confusion was still heavy in his tone as he looked down at the black dragoness. He chuckled again with contentment as she nuzzled him tenderly against his neck and chin. "Did you miss me?"

Cynder nodded, raising her head to look into his eyes and giving a large, tender smile. "Like you wouldn't believe."

With a contented sigh, Cynder closed her eyes and rested her head against Spyro's neck again, allowing the purple dragon's presence to chase away her previous worry and anxiety, and Spyro smiled and nuzzled her back on the top of her head. Farther away, Sparx made a disgusted noise and averted his gaze, a deeply discomforted feeling sweeping through him. His scowl only deepened when he saw his parents watching the two dragons with broad, tender smiles on their faces. Nina had her hands clasped tightly at her chest, and Flash was holding her close to his side with an arm around her shoulders.

_Give me a break,_ Sparx grumbled in his mind.

Just at that moment, though, Spyro looked up and finally seemed to notice the dragonflies. His eyes immediately widened with surprise.

"Mom? Dad?" he stuttered in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

Both dragonflies laughed joyfully and hovered over to their dragon son. As they approached Cynder released her hold on the purple dragon and took a couple of steps back to give the family some room, and Spyro laughed as his parents flew up and grasped his neck in the tightest embrace they could manage.

"Oh, look at you!" Nina exclaimed. "You've grown so much!"

"It's good to see you, son," Flash said with a large smile, patting Spyro firmly on the horn as he released his hold.

"It's great to see you both too!" Spyro said happily. "When did you guys get here?"

"Just now," Nina replied, now also releasing her son. "We came back with Sparx to see how you boys were doing here."

"There was no stopping them," Sparx chuckled, floating over to his brother and parents now as well. "I think they must have been scheming this ever since I told them that you weren't coming back to the swamp."

Spyro chuckled as well and gave a sheepish smile to his parents. "I wanted to..."

"We know, honey," Nina said reassuringly, patting him gently on the muzzle. "And we understand. Sparx has been telling us about all that you boys have been through, and I can imagine that you're still pretty busy helping to get things all put back together."

Spyro snorted, and he exchanged an amused, knowing glance with Sparx.

It was at that moment that the guardians seemed to decide to step into the conversation, and Sparx looked over his shoulder when he heard the three dragons and Hunter approaching from behind him. As they stopped a few metres away Flash and Nina quickly moved back so that they could speak to Spyro unhindered.

"Welcome back, young dragon," Terrador said with a smile. "It's good to see that you've returned safely to us. We were beginning to fear that something had happened to you to prevent you from coming back to the city."

"Was there any trouble in the village?" Cyril asked. "We were expecting you to return a number of days ago with your report."

"No, no trouble," Spyro replied, shaking his head. "I'm sorry if I made you worry. I was just making sure to do a thorough check for any signs of trouble in the village and the surrounding area."

"And did you find anything?" Terrador asked curiously.

To the apparent surprise of the other dragons, Spyro shook his head again.

"No, nothing," he told them. "Everything looked fine from what I could see. The village appears safe, and there were no signs of any grublins in the area. If there ever were any there, they've moved on."

"Well, that's a relief," Terrador said with a sigh, but to Sparx there still seemed to be something troubling him, and the large green dragon exchanged a quick glance with Cyril and Sirius. Spyro also seemed to pick up on the strange behaviour.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked.

"It's puzzling," Cyril replied. "While we are relieved to hear that you encountered no danger on your journey, it seems strange that, after grublins were seen at all three outlying cities, only two of them fall under attack."

At those words Spyro's eyes widened slightly with surprise, and it was then that he seemed to finally notice the bandage that was wrapped around Cynder's right shoulder and the armour that Terrador and Sirius were wearing. He immediately took a step closer to Cynder, leaning his head forward to examine her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked anxiously. "What happened?"

"It's fine," she told him immediately, raising a paw reassuringly. "Don't worry about it. It's just a scratch."

"Are you sure?" he asked sceptically.

Cynder nodded her head firmly, a gentle smile on her muzzle. "Yes, Spyro. It's almost completely healed already. You don't have to worry."

Spyro heaved a sigh of relief. "I'm glad to hear it."

Cynder smiled again. "So did you just get back?" she continued.

Spyro nodded. "I was heading for the temple when I saw Terrador and Sirius flying over here, and I thought I should check out what was going on."

"Well, good timing," Sparx quipped. "I'd hate to see the state Mom and Dad would be in if you waited any longer."

Nina shot a stern glare in the golden dragonfly's direction, and Sparx immediately cringed and looked away. Spyro chuckled.

"And where is Demetrius?" Terrador asked suddenly, catching everyone's attention. "I asked him to report to me as soon as he returned to the city. If you came here when you saw me, where has he gone?"

"Demetrius?" Spyro repeated, a bewildered look flashing across his expression so quickly that Sparx wasn't even sure if he had seen it before the purple dragon's expression brightened. "He stayed behind at the village. He told me that while he was there he wanted to see if he could learn more about why the elders are so hesitant to advance communications between our cities."

"Really?" Terrador asked, a look of surprise and confusion on his features. "Well...That's interesting." Then he gave a shrug. "Well, if you say so."

"Also, Spyro," Cyril cut in suddenly, "you wouldn't happen to have seen the group of scouts we sent out to the village a few days ago when you didn't return?"

"Scouts?" Spyro repeated with a small frown. "No, I haven't seen them. Must have missed them."

"Hmm," Cyril grunted before giving a shrug like Terrador. "Very well then. I suppose they'll turn up eventually. In the meantime, welcome back young dragon. Now, Terrador, I'm pleased to inform you that the residences are all prepared for the new arrivals from the eastern city."

"Oh, good," Terrador said. "That's a relief. Sirius, why don't you go and start directing the refugees toward the residences? I'm sure your father will be relieved to know that we have accommodations ready for his weary citizens."

"Yes Master Terrador," the fire dragon replied with a sharp nod before turning to the north and taking flight. Once he had gone Terrador turned back toward the others. "As for the rest of us, why don't we adjourn to the temple where we can all hear Sparx's and Spyro's reports in detail? Cyril, fly ahead and alert Volteer, would you? I'm sure that he would like to know that our young friends have returned."

The large ice dragon nodded his head sharply and took off just as Sirius had, leaving Terrador behind with Hunter, Cynder, Spyro, and the dragonflies.

"Alright, let's get going, shall we?" the earth guardian said, addressing his remaining companions.

"Lead the way, big guy," Sparx said, gesturing toward the street with his hands.

Terrador chuckled and shook his head before turning away and beginning the trek up through the streets toward the temple, deciding to remain on the ground so as not to leave Hunter behind. As the rest of the dragons and Sparx's family moved in to follow him, Sparx shifted over so that he was floating along beside his brother's head. Spyro glanced up toward him as he walked.

"Good to see you again, bro," Sparx told him with a quick grin.

Spyro smiled as well. "You too Sparx."

"Oh, this is so exciting," Nina said as she and Flash moved up by Sparx's other side at the same time that Cynder moved in beside Spyro. "Did he say we're going to a temple?"

Sparx grinned and nodded. "I'll have to show you guys around some time. There's a _lot_ of things to see here in the city."

"Indeed," Terrador rumbled from ahead, glancing back over his shoulder at the dragonflies. "And you both are welcome to stay as long as you would like. Will you be needing any kind of accommodations?"

"I'm not sure," Nina said, glancing toward Flash. "We never really planned that far ahead."

"I'm sure there's space in our room," Spyro suggested, causing Sparx to shoot him a panicked look.

"Oh, no," Nina said immediately, shaking her head firmly, and Sparx stifled a sigh of relief. "No, I'm sure you boys don't want us invading on your space like that. We'll figure something out."

"Don't you worry about it," Terrador told them. "We'll have the moles arrange something for you."

"Nice," Flash commented quietly, glancing toward his family. "I like the service here."

Nina gave an amused snort and elbowed the blue dragonfly in the side, causing him to wince and chuckle.

In that manner, the reunited family and their companions made their way through the bustling streets of the dragon city, climbing steadily up into the higher levels of the city on their way to the temple. All the while, Sparx felt a sense of happiness growing within him. With his family around him in the city he currently called home, everything was good.

Still, for a reason he couldn't quite grasp, deep within him he still felt a strange uneasiness, like even in this happy moment something wasn't entirely right...

***.*.***

"Alright, well I guess we'll leave you boys alone now and let you get your rest. You've both done a lot of travelling today, after all."

"You got that right," Sparx snorted in response to his father, who was hovering just a few metres farther down the hall, he and Nina turning to depart the corridor that led to Spyro's, Sparx's and Cynder's rooms. "Man, I feel like I could sleep for days right about now."

"Well, try not to sleep in _too_ late," his mother teased. "After all, we need someone to show us around the city tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Sparx said, waving a hand. "We'll be up. Right Spyro?"

"Speak for yourself," the purple dragon snorted with a grin.

Flash and Nina both chuckled.

"Well, anyways, goodnight you both," Nina called to them as she and Flash neared the top of the stairwell. Then she paused for a moment before giving a tender smile and adding, "We're so glad to see you again, Spyro."

"Thanks Mom," the young dragon replied, returning the smile. "See you guys tomorrow."

Both dragonflies waved before disappearing down the steps of the residence building. Immediately afterward Sparx spun about and hovered up to the door of his and his brother's room.

"And I am outta here," he declared, pushing the door to the room open without even looking back. "See you inside Spyro, once you and your girlfriend are finished being all mushy with each other."

With that he shut the thick door behind him, plunging the corridor into momentary silence. Then the young purple dragon turned his attention ahead of him once more, where Cynder was approaching him. For a moment she just stood there, gazing into his eyes, before she leaned forward and nuzzled him gently and affectionately under his jaw. He returned the gesture, and he could feel the way all the tension seemed to melt from her body at the contact. A long moment later she pulled back and gazed into his eyes once more.

"I'm glad you're back, Spyro," she said with a soft smile.

"So am I," he replied with a grin.

Her smile grew wider before she turned around and padded up to the door of her own room. With one forepaw she pushed it open. Then she turned to look back over her shoulder.

"Goodnight."

He simply inclined his head in reply, and after flashing him one last smile Cynder disappeared inside her room and shut the door behind her. Immediately the purple dragon turned about and entered through the door behind him. Once inside the room he glanced briefly about, finding all the lanterns extinguished and only the light of the moons illuminating the interior. The small golden dragonfly was nowhere in sight, and the young dragon assumed he had already gone to sleep.

Instead of heading for the cushions to sleep, he padded soundlessly out to the balcony and sat down on his haunches just behind the low railing, gazing out at the peaceful city and simply soaking up the silence of the moment. It had been some time since he'd last been in Warfang, after all, and he wanted re-familiarize himself with the feel of having the large city surrounding him on all sides.

Slowly, the young dragon felt a strange feeling of amusement growing within him, and for no apparent reason he began chuckling quietly to himself. Though he tried to keep his voice low, the laughter still grew steadily in volume for several seconds, and as he laughed the purple dragon brought the pad of one paw up to his face and shook his head low to the ground. It was a strangely chilling laugh, one that none of Spyro's companions would have likely recognized if they heard it coming from the young purple dragon, and anyone that saw him laughing to himself on the balcony might have thought that he had gone insane, but as it was the young dragon didn't care. Finally the laughing subsided, and he let out a long sigh and stared up at the moons, a broad smirk stretched across his muzzle.

"Oh, this is way too easy," he muttered to himself before chuckling briefly again. He glanced back into the room where Sparx was sleeping and his grin grew larger, taking on a slightly strangely dark air. "I can't believe how quickly they're buying it! It's not even a challenge!"

He glanced upward once again, seeming to be looking at nothing in particular, his eyes swivelling slightly about as if he were seeking out some being above him amongst the stars, watching him.

"What do you think, Master?" he snickered. "Impressed?"

With another low chuckle, he turned his gaze to his right, directing his eyes toward the north-west beyond the corner of the residence building, in the direction of the mountains that lay over the horizon. All at once his grin grew even wider than before, becoming much more ominous in appearance.

"I hope you enjoyed your time in this city, Spyro," he muttered with dark pleasure. "Because when I'm through, you'd never even think that this had been your home."

A sudden, quiet groan from inside the room behind him caused Nexus to snap his head around, his entire body going rigid as his gaze sought out an intruder.

"Spyro?" the groggy voice of Sparx said from out of sight within the bedroom's sheltered sleeping alcove. "You say something?"

"Nothing, Sparx," the purple called back, forcing his tone to become even and relaxed. "Go back to sleep. I'll just be a second."

Another muffled grunt was the only response he got before silence descended over the room once more. Once he was certain that the coast was clear, Nexus quietly rose to his feet and, after shooting one last dark smirk out toward the sleeping city, padded silently into Spyro's chambers and climbed the steps into the recessed alcove. With a happy sigh he stretched out on Spyro's luxurious nest of cushions and closed his eyes, rolling over onto his back and waiting for sleep to claim him.

_Tomorrow, I put my true plans in motion_, he thought to himself with a feeling of wicked anticipation, the dark grin never leaving his muzzle.

He chuckled quietly to himself once more, imagining the final results he hoped to achieve over the next few days. If he played things right, no one, not even Spyro, would know what had hit them, and Nexus could hardly wait to get started.

_This is going to be fun._

* * *

><p><strong>Uh oh...Nexus is at it again, and in Spyro's home! What will he do this time?<strong>

**Until next time...**


	20. Chapter 19

__**Merry Christmas Eve everybody! As an early Christmas present for you, here's another chapter to enjoy. It's another shorter one, but maybe this is one of those 'good things come in small packages' situations. I hope so...**

**Anyway, hope you like it. Enjoy.**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 19:<span>_

In the late hours of the morning, the main dining hall within Warfang was packed to capacity with creatures eager to enjoy a warm morning meal. There were moles of course, as well as a few cheetahs about, but most surprising was the sheer number of dragons within the large chamber. They were everywhere, of all kinds, turning the dining hall into a bright mix of reds, blues, greens, yellows, and even the grey of a few wind dragons. This was the first time since the beginning of the war that so many dragons had been seen in one place.

As Cynder sat down at a vacant table near the back corner of the hall and deposited her tray of roasted deer meat on the table, she looked around at the gathered dragons and felt a large smile spread across her muzzle, a feeling of pure happiness growing within her. To see so many dragons, all safe and together within the great city of Warfang even after the damage that she and Malefor had done brought an indescribable sense of relief and joy with it, and now she felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted from her. Their kind would carry on, and for just a moment she felt that she could put the continued threat of the grublins out of her mind and just enjoy the moment.

Just then, as she began picking at her breakfast, she became aware of the sound of a figure approaching behind her. Even despite the sense of peace and happiness that filled her that morning, old instincts couldn't be ignored, and as the figure continued to draw closer she could feel her body going rigid, the muscles along her tail tensing in preparation to plunge her glinting, lethal blade into any potential assailant. When she turned her head to glance back over her shoulder, however, she straightened in surprise.

"Well, this is a surprise," the large earth dragon that had approached her said as he drew to a halt just a few feet away from the smaller black dragoness. He stood out quite a bit from the rest of the dragons in the hall because of the armour he was wearing, which was made all the more distinctive because of the fact that it was made of extremely hardened wood. "How are you today, Cynder?"

"Good, thank you," Cynder replied with a smile. "And what brings you here, Raulk?"

"Nothing really," the guard replied. "I had a few minutes to spare before I need to begin heading toward the city's training grounds for my entrance evaluations for the Warfang City Guard, so I thought it was a good time to grab a quick meal to keep my strength up. I hear Mason's tests are rather gruelling."

"The Warfang Guard?" Cynder said in surprise. "Why are you going through evaluations for our Guard? I thought you were already captain of the northern city's Guard."

"I was," Raulk replied evenly. "However, shortly after we arrived here in Warfang, the elders relieved me of my post for insubordination and discharged me from the Guard. Immediately afterward, I sought out Mason when I learned he was captain of the Guard here in Warfang and requested a position here."

"You were discharged?" Cynder asked with a tone of disbelief. All at once her feelings were tinged with remorse, and she said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Raulk chuckled, to Cynder's mild surprise. "I'm not. As I already told you, I have no regrets for what I did that day."

"But if you join the Guard here, doesn't that mean that you won't be able to go back to your home in the north?"

"Warfang was my home before the war," Raulk told her. "I look forward to the chance to serve in its defence. Don't you worry about me, Cynder. If I pass the evaluations today and get into Warfang's Guard, then I'll be happy with the way things have turned out."

Cynder gave a smile at the corner of her mouth, relieved. "Well, then I guess I should wish you good luck."

"Thank you," Raulk replied, inclining his head gratefully. "Now, I suppose I should get going, or I'll miss my chance for a meal. It was nice seeing you again."

"You too."

The bulky earth dragon inclined his head again before turning about and moving off down the aisle once again. However, almost immediately after he turned he staggered slightly as he barely avoided running into another dragon that had been walking up behind him.

"Oh, sorry," he apologized quickly, squeezing over to the side of the alley to make room for a deep red fire dragon about halfway between his size and Cynder's to pass.

"It's fine," the fire dragon replied. Then, once he had pushed past the other dragon, he turned his attention toward Cynder and smiled. "Hey Cynder."

"Hey Sirius," Cynder replied brightly.

"Mind if we join you?" Sirius asked, motioning toward the table with the forepaw with which he was currently holding a platter of deer meat and fruits. At the same time Faren appeared by his side, carrying a similar tray in her jaws.

"Not at all."

The two fire dragons quickly moved toward the table, Sirius hopping along on three legs while Faren advanced more easily on all fours. Shortly afterward they had found places side by side on the opposite side of the table from Cynder and had set their trays down.

"Hi Cynder," Faren said once her mouth was clear.

"Hello Faren," the black dragoness replied with a smile. "How are you this morning?"

"Good," Faren replied, giving a small smile in return, which in turn caused Cynder's expression to brighten even more.

Over the past couple of days since everyone had returned to Warfang, Cynder had noticed that Faren seemed to be acting just slightly less reserved around her and their companions. She suspected that the boost in confidence was as a result of the success she'd had in battle against the grublins in the eastern city. Whatever the reason, it warmed Cynder's heart to see the red dragoness beginning to open up more with others. What was more, most of the time it was with _her_ of all dragons!

"Father was just telling me that my training with the guardians should start this afternoon," Faren continued.

"Really?" Cynder said, looking up from her meal. "Are you excited?"

Faren nodded after a brief hesitation. "Nervous, but yeah, I am excited."

"I really think you're going to enjoy it," Sirius said to his sister. "They're all _really_ good teachers. You're really going to learn a lot from them."

Faren made no reply. She only offered another small smile to the older fire dragon before she set to work delicately picking at the meal before her. For the next several minutes the three dragons ate and exchanged light conversation, focussing mainly on current life within the city now that everyone was back together again. Then they heard a familiar voice call out.

"There you all are!" the voice exclaimed, and Cynder turned toward the source and smiled broadly when she saw Spyro approaching from behind her. He promptly lowered himself into a seated position on the cushion by Cynder's side, and as soon as she was seated she shifted closer to him, earning a brief grin from him out of the corner of his mouth. "I was looking all over for you guys."

"It sure can be hard to find someone in this city, can't it?" Sirius chuckled. "Especially now that there are so many more dragons around."

"It's great, isn't it?" Cynder asked Spyro joyfully.

"Overwhelming, I'd say," the purple dragon replied with a sharp laugh. "You all forget, this is my first time _ever_ seeing so many dragons at once. I think I'm a bit in shock still."

Cynder snorted with laughter and shoved him playfully with her shoulder, a teasing grin on her face. It was then that she noticed that he didn't have a tray with him, though, and her expression turned to one of slight confusion. Spyro noticed quickly.

"I already ate," he explained. "I was up early this morning."

"You've been getting up really early ever since you got back," Cynder commented. "Seems a little unusual for you, doesn't it?"

Spyro merely shrugged and turned his gaze away, looking out over the hall at the gathered dragon diners with a look of deep thought in his eyes. Cynder was taken slightly by surprise by this rapid dismissal of her question, and she shot a confused glance toward the two fire dragons. Sirius didn't offer much of a reaction, while Faren gave a puzzled shrug.

"Actually, Spyro, I'm glad that you showed up," Sirius said a moment later, regaining the purple dragon's attention. "Have the guardians spoken to you yet today?"

"Should they have?"

Once again, Cynder was mildly puzzled by Spyro's response. Though she didn't think much of it, over the past couple of days she _had_ noticed that the purple dragon had seemed just a bit brusquer with his words and attitude than usual. She wondered if something was bothering him that he wasn't letting on to, but if there was she wasn't sure how to go about asking him.

_Maybe he just needs a bit more time to unwind from his trip to the mountain village_, she thought.

"I'll take that as a no," Sirius said with a shrug. "Well, they would like you and Cynder to come to the arena with Faren and I this afternoon."

"The arena?" Cynder replied, surprised. "What are we doing there?"

"This isn't some kind of training, is it?" Spyro asked in a grumbling tone.

Sirius nodded, and Spyro gave a quiet groan.

"Nothing too serious yet," the fire dragon told them. "But after the attacks that took place on the two larger dragon settlements, the guardians think that we should all be at top readiness to face any dangers."

Spyro sighed again, and Cynder shot him another puzzled look. She had never seen him react to a request from the guardians like this before.

"Is there some reason you don't want to train?" she asked.

Spyro waved a paw dismissively. "No, it's fine I guess. So when do we need to be there?"

"Just after midday," Sirius replied.

"Great," Spyro grunted, and with that he rose to his feet and made to depart.

"You're leaving already?" Cynder asked, surprised.

"Yeah. If we're going to be stuck in that arena for the afternoon getting worked over by the guardians, I want to get some air while I can."

"I'll come with you," Cynder said immediately, beginning to rise as well, but to her surprise he stopped her with a raised paw.

"No, that's fine," he told her. "Finish your meal. I'll meet up with you later."

"Oh," Cynder said, somewhat uncertainly, sitting back down again. "Alright. Where?"

He didn't answer, apparently not hearing her as he walked off between the lines of tables in the hall, and for a long moment Cynder just looked after him in the direction he had left with a strange, confused feeling running through her.

"That was a little strange," Sirius commented at length.

"Yeah," Cynder agreed slowly without shifting her gaze. "I wonder why he's acting like this?"

Several seconds passed in silence, no one having an answer, until Faren spoke up hesitantly.

"Stress?" she offered.

"Maybe," Sirius nodded. "Maybe he's worried about the grublin attacks. After all, you did get hurt in one of them, Cynder. Maybe he's worried about it happening again, and it's troubling him."

"But I told him that was nothing," Cynder protested immediately, finally turning to look back at the other two dragons. "Why would he worry about that if I said I was fine?"

"You say you're fine, but the fact is that you got hurt while he wasn't there to protect you. That can't be easy for him."

Cynder snorted loudly, chuckling for a brief moment.

"I don't need protection," she said with a grim smirk. "He knows that."

"Maybe so, but he still cares deeply for you."

This caused Cynder to pause thoughtfully for a moment, and subconsciously her forepaw moved to her right shoulder. She looked down at it. It was no longer bandaged since the wound had sealed over by that point, leaving only a thin, greyish scar across it that narrowly missed the lighter markings in her scales. Deep in thought, she slowly traced a talon along the thin line.

"Maybe you're right," she conceded at last, looking back up. "I guess if the roles were reversed, I would feel the same. Still, it seems strange that he would react like this."

"Maybe you should find him and ask him about it."

"I think I will," Cynder nodded. "If something is bothering him, maybe I can help him."

Sirius nodded in agreement before the three dragons returned to their meals. Once they had all finished, Cynder left to search for Spyro while Sirius headed for the temple. Faren, to Cynder's mild surprise, decided to accompany the black dragoness on her search, and for the next couple of hours to two of them wandered the streets together or searched the skies, wondering where Spyro might have gone. They tried all the places where Spyro had been most often during his time in Warfang, but to Cynder's confusion he wasn't at any of them. Eventually they were forced to abandon their search when it drew near to the time that the guardians wanted them to report to the arena, and with a resigned sigh Cynder turned for the large structure and quickly flew over to it. A couple of minutes later she and Faren had reached the inner arena floor, where they found the guardians and Sirius waiting for them already, as well as—to Cynder's surprise—Spyro.

"There you are!" Cynder exclaimed when she saw the purple dragon. "We were looking all over for you! I thought we were going to meet up."

"Oh, yeah," he said carelessly. "Sorry, I got held up."

Cynder exchanged a glance with Faren, but she decided that, just for now, she would let his rather flimsy excuse pass without further prodding, since there were more important matters at hand. Still, there would be words about it later, she promised herself. At that moment, though, she decided to focus on why the guardians had called them to the arena, and she turned her attention to the larger dragons.

"So what was it you wanted us here for?" she asked.

"I'm glad you asked," Terrador replied. "Well, as you are aware, with the recent attacks against two of the dragons' cities, we are concerned about the possibility of more attacks to come, and it is our opinion that you should all be ready for the possibility of another battle."

"So it _is_ more training," Spyro grunted.

"Indeed," Terrador nodded. "Even in times of peace, young dragon, training is an integral part of the life of any warrior. In times of danger, such as now, it only grows in importance."

Spyro grunted again, turning his gaze down toward the ground at his feet where he was tapping a talon impatiently.

"So what kind of training are we doing?" Cynder asked quickly.

"Well, actually, we'll be splitting you up today," Cyril replied, catching Cynder slightly by surprise. "Cynder, you will be training with Faren today under Volteer and I."

"Me, train with Cynder?" Faren squeaked nervously, glancing up toward the black dragoness by her side.

Cynder offered her a quick reassuring smile, but she had to admit that she hadn't been expecting this pairing either. She looked over toward the guardians again.

"How come?"

"We thought it might be beneficial for young Faren to have someone of your experience to offer support," Cyril replied. "So long as that's alright with you, of course."

Cynder nodded immediately, shooting another smile in the red dragoness's direction. "I'd be happy to help."

"Very good," Cyril said happily. "We'll use the training room in the temple for our lesson so that Spyro, Sirius and Terrador can use the arena."

"And what exactly is it I'll be doing here?" Spyro interrupted, glancing between the earth guardian and the future fire guardian.

"Well, you have already demonstrated a mastery of the common uses of all four base elements," Terrador declared proudly. "However, each of these elements has almost countless uses, and a dragon often spends a lifetime learning more and more powerful, advanced ways to manipulate their birth element and make it do their bidding. Today, we will begin teaching you some of these more advanced techniques."

"Starting with earth, I take it," Spyro said, fixing his gaze on Terrador, and Cynder thought she detected an almost bored tone in his voice.

"Actually, you will be beginning with fire toady."

Spyro appeared caught off guard by this response, and Cynder had to admit that she was as well. However, she was even more surprised by what came next.

"You will be learning a few key advanced techniques that many, if not all fire users are eventually made to master, and Sirius will be your instructor."

"Sirius?" Spyro repeated in shock, turning an incredulous look toward the fire breather. "Teach me?"

"Indeed," Terrador nodded. "Not only because he is a very skilled wielder of the fire element, but it will serve as part of his training as well. Part of his role as a guardian, after all, will entail passing on his knowledge to newer generations, and teaching is also an excellent way to develop one's patience, communication and ability to adapt to challenging situations." He then chuckled. "And what better challenge than trying to teach something new to the legendary purple dragon?"

"No kidding," Spyro snorted. "What has he got to teach me? He's isn't all that much older than I am. He's not even a guardian yet!"

Cynder gasped, and all around her the other dragons in the arena had gone dead silent from shock. _Never_ had Cynder heard Spyro talk to anyone else in such a rude, arrogant way, and clearly none of the guardians ever had either. Sirius especially looked surprised and a little hurt by the purple dragon's biting words. Then Terrador's expression deepened into a scowl, and he turned a stern glare toward the much younger dragon.

"That may be," he rumbled, "but his skill with fire is most uncommon, especially for a dragon his age. Do not let the fact that he is also still a student fool you; there is much that you can learn from him, and I expect you to show him the same respect as a teacher as you would any of the rest of us."

Spyro's only response was a derisive snort, but he made no further protest. Instead he turned toward Sirius, and for a moment he just sat there with a slight frown on his features before he gestured with an open paw toward the arena floor.

"Let's see what you've got, then."

Sirius hesitated for a second, still working over his surprise from Spyro's unexpected slight, but at length he collected himself and moved out toward the centre of the arena, Spyro following at a lazy pace behind him. Terrador moved off to the side of the ring while Cyril and Volteer began guiding Faren and Cynder toward the nearest exit.

"We'll leave you three to it, then," the ice guardian declared, but then he paused when he noticed the way that both of the dragonesses were watching their male companions with looks of deep interest. "Unless the two of you would like to stay back for a moment to see how the start of this lesson goes."

"Could we?" Faren said in her usual quiet tone.

"Why that sounds like a tremendous, marvellous, stupendous suggestion," Volteer chattered excitedly. I'm sure it will be most fascinating and engaging to observe."

"Alright then," Cyril nodded. "Up into the stands with us, then. Come along, let's not dally needlessly."

Cynder nodded in agreement and leapt up into the air. With only two beats of her wings she was up over the first few rows of seating in the stands and she quickly touched down and found a place amongst the low, wide stone benches. Faren quickly sat down beside her, while Cyril and Volteer found places a little farther over to Cynder's right. Once they were settled they all turned their attention to the centre of the arena, where Spyro and Sirius were now facing each other. Spyro's back was to them, so Cynder couldn't see his face, but by his posture she thought that he looked almost bored, and she frowned and exchanged another puzzled glance with Faren.

"Alright," Sirius declared loudly, his voice sounding out strongly in the expansive interior of the arena. "After hearing from the guardians what training you've already undergone for the use of the fire element, I've come to the conclusion that you are already quite proficient in the major breath attacks, as well as some of the more advanced secondary moves such as the Comet Dash. However, the potential for wielding the fire element goes far beyond simply breathing it. Today, we're going to be focussing on how to manipulate fire that exists already in your environment."

Cynder straightened up slightly with surprise, and she glanced toward Faren beside her, studying the red dragoness's reaction to her brother's words.

_I didn't even know that was possible_, she thought.

"As you know," Sirius continued, "it is very common for earth dragons to manipulate the earth around them, shaping the ground to their desire in attacks suck as slabs of stone or earth spikes. Fire dragons can do the same with fire that burns around them, though because there is no physical connection it is more difficult. To start with, I want you to try and open your mind to an existing flame and sense its presence."

The fire dragon turned his gaze to the right, and his expression hardened into one of concentration. An instant later a moderately-sized stone pedestal materialized much like training dummies normally do, the top forming into a large bowl-shaped torch. Sirius easily spat out a couple of sparks and ignited the torch, creating a bright, healthy blaze about three feet high. Then he turned an expectant look toward Spyro.

"Close your eyes, and try to use the additional sense your elemental powers give you to feel the fire. Open yourself to it. To control outside flames, you first have to be able to find them and latch on to them with your power. Let me know when you think you feel it."

With a sigh, Spyro did as he was told and closed his eyes, allowing his head to drop slightly toward the ground as he concentrated. Barely a second later, the flames above the torch flickered for a moment before quieting again.

"Got it," Spyro grunted in a bored tone.

Sirius blinked a couple of times in surprise, and he exchanged a quick glance with Terrador before saying, "Already?"

Spyro opened his eyes and fixed the fire dragon with a look that bordered on impatient. "Yeah."

"Well...Good job," Sirius said uncertainly. "I'm surprised; it usually takes a fair bit of time before a dragon can sense flames with any kind of reliability."

"Yeah, well, I sense it. So what do you want me to do next?"

"Okay, well, once a dragon knows how to feel the flames around them, the next step is to try and bend them to your will. This, however, is easier said than done. Fire is like a free spirit, going where it will and searching for any fuel it can find to grow stronger. But, if _you_ provide that fuel with your own strength, you can make it do anything you want."

To illustrate his point, Sirius breathed out a small jet of flames. The instant it was past his jaws, however, a look of deep concentration came over his features. Cynder gasped in surprise and awe when, instead of dissipating, the flames just hung in the air for a moment before moving seemingly of their own accord. Under Sirius's guidance, they swirled into a ball before thinning out into a long, thin streamer that snaked gracefully through the air almost like a living thing. Sirius guided this fire streamer to form a ring around himself, which he then held there for a few seconds, his gaze locked with Spyro's. Then, at length, he allowed the fire to disperse and straightened, looking completely relaxed as if what he had just done was the easiest thing in the world.

Cynder was in awe at what she had just seen; never in her life had she seen a fire dragon do what Sirius just had. Glancing around, she saw that the three guardians were all looking upon the younger fire dragon with pleased expressions on their faces. Then she looked to Faren and saw her gazing at her brother with a small smile.

"That's really impressive," Cynder said to her.

Faren nodded, glancing at Cynder briefly before turning her attention back to her brother. "Yeah, it is. Father was so proud when Sirius learned to do that."

"How long did it take him?"

Faren gave a soft chuckle, and replied simply, "Years."

Just then Cynder noticed that Sirius was speaking again, and she quickly turned her attention back to the arena.

"Now, I want you to try," Sirius told Spyro. "Keep in mind, this technique is one that only the most powerful fire dragons can regularly master. It will likely take you a while to become proficient at it, but as my father told me, the best way to learn to do something is to just go for it. Now, just focus your energy, and vis—"

As he had been speaking, Spyro's gaze had slowly drifted over to the fire in the torch with a rather disinterested air about his posture. Cynder couldn't see his face, but she imagined the look on it must be the same even if she never expected him to act in such a way during a lesson. Just at that moment, though, Sirius suddenly cut himself short as he was giving his instructions because right then Spyro raised a forepaw toward the torch, and suddenly the flame that was burning there shot through the air toward him, gathering into a flickering ball of flames just above the pad of his outstretched paw.

"So, sorta like this then," he grunted, flourishing the paw lightly and causing the small fireball to twirl in the air. "You know, you made it sound like you were teaching me something hard."

"How..." Sirius said with a slight stammer. "How did you do that so fast?"

Spyro glanced down at the ball of fire suspended in the air above his paw before looking back up at the fire dragon.

"Maybe it's not as tough as you make it out to be," he replied. He looked down again at the fireball before clenching his paw around it, extinguishing the flame. "Is this the best you've got? Really? Because if I'm supposed to be impressed, I gotta tell you, it's not working."

Sirius looked like he had just been slapped across the face, and Cynder noticed that the guardians were practically gaping at the young purple dragon. She herself was stunned; she had _never_ heard Spyro talk down to someone like that before, and she had never suspected that he was even capable of saying something hurtful to someone else.

"What's next?" Spyro continued. "Magically creating fire out of nowhere?" He lifted a paw and held it pad up, and an instant later the air above it flickered before another ball of flames materialized and began burning brightly. "Oh, look, got that too."

"Incredible," Cynder heard Volteer mutter.

"That shouldn't be possible," Sirius protested. "Those techniques take years to learn! Have you been taught this before?"

Spyro shook his head. "First time."

Sirius was speechless, and he looked to Terrador as if for help, but the earth dragon looked just as confused as he was.

"Are you _sure_ you're up to teaching me?" Spyro said sceptically.

"Yes," Sirius said immediately, with a surprising amount of strength in his voice given the uncertainty that he'd displayed mere seconds before. "I don't know how you accomplished what you just did, but there are plenty more uses of fire that you have yet to learn. It may take some time, but I _will_ find something new to show you."

"Huh," Spyro said doubtfully. "See, I'm not convinced. If this exercise was what you call 'hard', what makes you think I'll have trouble with anything else you can throw at me? I just don't see this whole setup of you trying to teach me working out."

"You think you're better than me?" Sirius said challengingly.

"Well, I didn't really want to say anything to a future _guardian_, but yeah."

"Spyro!" Cynder burst out before she could stop herself, appalled by his words.

"Mind yourself, young dragon!" Terrador snapped from the sidelines. "Is this what you call respect? I expected far better out of you, Spyro!"

"It's alright, Master Terrador," Sirius cut in suddenly, surprising the other dragons in the arena. Then he returned his attention to Spyro and met the younger dragon's challenging stare with a calm, confident one of his own. "Well, how about we put your theory to the test?"

Spyro straightened slightly in surprise, narrowing his eyes sceptically at the larger dragon.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"A challenge," Sirius replied evenly. "A duel. If you think you're a better fire breather than I am, then prove it."

"You want me to fight you?" Spyro said dubiously. "Are you serious?"

Sirius nodded his head firmly. "Serious as my name. So what do you say?"

Spyro hesitated, glancing around at the gathered dragons that were watching him attentively for his response. However, the pause lasted only a couple of seconds before he shrugged.

"Hey, if you want to go for it then that's fine by me."

"Excellent," Sirius said with a small smile.

He glanced toward the torch that he had summoned and frowned for a moment in concentration. The torch rapidly receded into the floor, dematerializing as if it had never been solid at all. Then, with the arena floor clear, he turned around and walked a few paces farther into the ring before turning back to face his opponent. Spyro moved a few steps out into the ring as well, taking up a position opposite the fire dragon.

"Sirius, are you sure this is a good idea?" Terrador asked him. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted you to teach Spyro."

"It's fine, Terrador," Sirius replied calmly. "It's just a little test. Isn't that right, Spyro?"

"Whatever you say," the purple dragon replied.

Terrador hesitated for a moment longer before heaving a resigned sigh.

"Alright," he grunted. "Just both of you be careful."

With that he spread his wings and leapt into the air with a couple of heavy flaps of his wings. He flew over to where his guardian comrades were sitting and found a place to sit by Cyril's right side, opposite from Cynder and Faren. With the arena floor now clear, everyone turned their attention to the two combatants.

"So what kind of rules are there for this battle?" Spyro asked.

"Just a few simple ones," Sirius replied. "First of all, the only element that you can use is fire. Second, there will be no physical combat; this will be a test of strength with fire _only_. Third, the battle is over when one of us or the other is overpowered and knocked to the ground. Understood?"

Spyro's reply was a simple nod of his head. Then he settled into a low battle stance, glaring out at his opponent.

"Then begin."

The word 'begin' was hardly past Sirius's jaws before Spyro shot his head forward and spat out a blazing ball of flames. The fireball rocketed through the air, so fast that it was barely more than a streak of light. It looked as though it was going to be a guaranteed hit, and beside her Cynder saw Faren tense with fear for her brother, but at the last moment Sirius easily dodged to the side and the fireball crashed into the stone arena floor, erupting in a billowing column of flame and smoke. When the smoke cleared, however, Sirius was standing calmly and unscathed.

"Good speed," he said with a nod. "Against anyone that couldn't have felt that coming, that surely would have been a devastating hit."

"That was nothing," Spyro said cockily. "Just the warm-up. Now, what have you got?"

Sirius flashed a confident grin before leaping up into the air almost faster than the eye could follow, and Cynder gasped as his entire body began glowing with bright orange light. Then he shot down toward the ground and slammed into the arena floor with such force that Cynder felt the bench beneath her shake. The second he hit the ground the glow around his body was channelled into the ground, and an instant later the floor beneath Spyro's feet erupted in a geyser of flames. The purple dragon, however, was somehow able to jump up and flip out of the way without suffering so much as a singed scale. After performing a full back flip in the air he landed easily on the ground a few feet back from where he had begun.

"Against anyone that couldn't have felt that coming, that might _almost_ have worked," Spyro snickered.

"Then try this."

Cracking his jaws open wide, Sirius breathed out a blazingly bright jet of flames in an arc in front of him. Then, with a roar, he reared up and shoved his paws forward, pushing the wall of fire ahead at a breakneck pace. Cynder felt worry explode through her as the ultra-intense wall of flames sped toward Spyro, seemingly impenetrable, but then she gasped when he reared up and waved his forepaws sharply to the left, causing the fire to veer off course. Then, spinning around, he commanded the flames to form into a tight ball before he launched it back at Sirius. The ball expanded as it flew, and in less than a split second it had reached its target. Sirius, however, stood calmly as the attack raced toward him. Then, just before it hit, he waved a wing easily and caused the fire to split and pass him harmlessly on either side.

"Turning my own attack against me," he commented, impressed. "Good. Learning to control another dragon's fire is usually a very difficult thing to achieve."

"I see you're still underestimating me, then," Spyro replied evenly.

Sirius grunted with a mild frown before settling back into a battle stance. "Your move."

"If you insist," Spyro said with a grin tinged with dark eagerness.

This time, Spyro opened by performing what could almost be described as a miniature fire fury, surrounding himself in a wall of flames before causing it to shoot outwards. But, just as Spyro had done when Sirius had sent a wall of fire at him, Sirius seized control of the flames when they got too close to him. After drawing all the fire in toward himself, he focussed it into one broad beam that shot straight for the purple dragon, looking as if it were intense enough to melt through stone. To Cynder's mounting horror, Spyro wasn't doing anything to avoid it.

"Spyro, look out!" she exclaimed.

Just then, to the utter shock of all the observing dragons, Spyro charged _toward_ the approaching beam of fiery energy. Then, just before he made contact, he enshrouded himself in his own fire in the most powerful Comet Dash Cynder had ever seen him perform. Using this technique, he pushed right through Sirius's fire beam in only a couple of seconds. Sirius forced more power into his attack, but Spyro couldn't be stopped. Then, just before Spyro ran headlong into the fire dragon, he leapt up high into the air, bursting out from the beam of fire and shooting over Sirius's head. Now behind his opponent, Spyro spun swiftly around and spat out a massive fire bomb that Sirius was barely able to avoid in time.

This time neither dragon paused for banter. Instead they leapt right into the fray, dodging around each other at a blinding pace and trading blasts of fire with such frequency, Cynder was wondering when they were able to pause to breathe. They were moving so fast she was almost getting dizzy just watching them. So far, they seemed like they were perfectly evenly matched, each of them apparently unable to land a hit on their opponent. No matter how quickly they moved and struck, the other combatant moved just as quickly.

After no less than ten minutes had passed locked in pitched combat, Sirius seemed to decide it was time to put their contest to an end. After dodging another fireball from Spyro, he planted himself firmly across from his opponent before unleashing a deafening roar. His body began to glow orange again, but this time it was so bright that Cynder nearly had to shield her eyes with a wing as she watched. As the glow intensified, more and more fire began swirling around his body until he had completely disappeared from view. Then, suddenly, the gathered flames leapt upward into the air, and Cynder gasped in shock as they quickly morphed into a fully-formed dragon. With another roar from Sirius, the fiery dragon-copy dove down toward Spyro as if to snatch him up in its flaming claws. In that moment, it seemed as though there was nowhere that Spyro could go to escape the lifelike creature of flames, and so he simply stood his ground as the fire came crashing down on him.

Cynder, Faren, and all the guardians gasped as Spyro disappeared inside the fiery explosion, vanishing from sight in an instant as the inferno blazed around him. There was no sign of him at all as raging flames covered the arena floor for several metres in all directions.

"Spyro!" Cynder called fearfully when he didn't emerge from the fire.

Utter silence hung heavily over the arena for several moments as the watching dragons waited anxiously for a sign that Spyro was alright. Sirius himself was standing a couple dozen metres away, a shocked and fearful expression on his face, and Cynder could hardly imagine the worry he must be feeling, wondering if he had injured, or worse killed, his student on the first lesson.

Just then, however, their fears were all proven to be for nothing when, suddenly, the fire converged on the point where Spyro had last been seen standing before exploding outward in a chain of blazing fireballs that, for some reason, reminded Cynder a great deal of one of the attacks Malefor had used when she and Spyro had faced him. The dozen fireballs arched through the air, fanning out before bearing down like a swarm on the still-stunned fire dragon. Sirius was unable to react before the fireballs connected, creating a series of violent explosions that momentarily obscured him from view. An instant later he reappeared, tumbling along the arena floor for several metres before coming to a halt in a heap on the ground, groaning weakly. Beside her, Cynder heard Faren gasp in fear.

Spyro emerged from the smoke that still hung in the air at that moment, looking completely unharmed by the flames that had surrounded his body mere moments before. With purposeful strides, he stalked up to the downed fire dragon and drew to a halt a few feet away, gazing down his snout at his fallen opponent who looked like he had suffered some minor but painful burns along a good part of the length of his body.

"Looks like I win," the purple dragon stated in a disinterested tone, as if he had been expecting to emerge on top all along. "So much for the great fire guardian."

Sirius stared up at him with a look of shock upon his face. In fact, all the dragons in the chamber were staring at Spyro in surprise and confusion, both because he had somehow bested the most powerful fire dragon any of them had seen since Ignitus without any training, but also because of the unusually cold demeanour about him now as he looked down on his opponent.

Without another word, Spyro turned about and marched off toward the exit of the arena, not so much as meeting the gazes of the other dragons in the chamber as he departed. A moment later he was gone, leaving the arena completely silent and still as everyone tried to make sense of what they had just seen.

"Most peculiar," Volteer muttered, finally breaking the oppressive silence.

"I've never seen anything like it," Terrador added quietly.

Cynder hardly heard them. She was staring at the doorway through which Spyro had just left, feeling unbelievably confused and conflicted. There was now not a single doubt in her mind that something wasn't right with him, but what could possibly be affecting him so much to cause him to behave in such an unusual manner?

Without any answers and with no clear way of finding any, Cynder was left to wonder and worry, fearing inside that, whatever this was, they hadn't seen the end of it yet.


	21. Chapter 20

**Anybody starting to wonder what's happening with the real Spyro yet? Well, since I was evil and made you wait forever for news on him last time, I decided to have mercy and make the wait much shorter this time.**

**You're welcome X)**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 20:<span>_

Spyro jolted awake with a startled cry when the sound of a heavy door slamming open echoed through the dank underground corridor to his cell. Immediately he was on his feet, drawing back a few paces from the bars of his prison, a feeling of anxiety growing within him. By now he could hear the sound of talons clicking against the stone floor as one or more large dragons advanced down the corridor toward him, and he wondered if it was the village elders coming to see him again. He wasn't sure if that idea was a relieving one, or a cause for fear.

After his first meeting with the elders on the day he had regained consciousness, a great deal of time had passed in which he was left absolutely alone in his cell with no contact with anyone other than the guards on rotating duty that would bring him his food. Even they refused to say anything more to him, and he had rapidly given up trying to talk with them. He wasn't sure how long ago that had been, though; here in this underground prison, there was absolutely no way to judge the passing of time. Even his meals weren't a guaranteed way to count how many days had passed. Was he being given a full three meals a day? Or was it less? If he was getting three meals, then it might have only been a few days since he had regained consciousness. If it was less, he thought that it could very well be as long as a couple of weeks! And in that time, there had been no sign of anyone from Warfang coming to look for him. It was as if they had completely forgotten about him, or saw no need to locate him now.

Those uncountable days of utter silence and loneliness were the longest, most depressing days Spyro had ever had to endure in his life, and it had required every ounce of his willpower to keep from battering his restraints with every means he could imagine in the hopes of breaking out of them so that he could just go _home_. It had almost come as a relief when, two days ago—at least, that's what he guessed it to be—the two elder dragons that had spoken to him before had returned to question him again. However, just as before, his pleas for them to believe that there had been a mistake and that he was innocent fell on deaf ears, and for hours on end, both that day and the day after, they had assaulted him with questions and accusations until his head spun with fear, confusion and despair, feeling like he was alone in a world that despised him with no one to draw comfort from. The guardians weren't there, Sparx wasn't there, and, most importantly, Cynder wasn't there. He was alone.

The black dragoness's absence was the hardest for him to bear. Over the first few days, the only thing that had remotely resembled a source of comfort, something that he had desperately clung to, was the belief that, wherever she was, Cynder would be looking for him and wouldn't rest until she found out what had happened to him. Surely, after he had failed to return to Warfang, she would have set out to find him. Even if, somehow, Demetrius hadn't gotten back to alert the guardians, his prolonged absence should have been enough to tell her that something was amiss. However, as the days dragged by and there was no indication that she was coming for him, that last hope had begun to slip away, and though he resented himself for it, he couldn't help but feel deeply betrayed.

_It's not her fault_, he tried to tell himself. _There's no way anyone could tell her that I'm down here in the dungeons. She could have come and just missed me._

Still, those thoughts did nothing to change his feelings.

Another footstep, much closer this time, snapped Spyro out of his depressed brooding, and he looked up toward the bars with a mounting feeling of trepidation. The only thing that he could think of was that the elders were coming back to question him again, and if that were the case he feared that it wouldn't go well; after they had been unable to extract any of the answers they were hoping to hear from him last time, they had left bitterly disappointed and _very_ unhappy. He could tell that their patience with him was rapidly running out, and when they couldn't get any better answers out of him this time, he was afraid of what they might do.

_Please let it be something else,_ he begged in his mind. _Please..._

His heart fell when he realized that there would be no such good fortune. At that moment two figures appeared in front of his cell. One of them was the electricity dragon guard he had often seen outside his cell, and the other was the fire dragon elder of the village, the one that seemed to despise Spyro the most out of the three. Now, as he gazed into the purple dragon's cell at the prisoner, his expression settled into a deep, hateful snarl, and Spyro shrank back fearfully at the sight.

"I take it he hasn't said anything," the elder grunted to the guard without shifting his gaze.

"Not a word," the electricity dragon replied with a shake of his head. "He sure is a stubborn one."

"Well, then we're obviously just not trying hard enough," the fire dragon said darkly, and Spyro shuddered with a terrible feeling of foreboding. There was something very ominous about the elder's words.

"I can't give you the answers you're looking for," he said weakly, pleadingly. "I've told you, I wasn't the one to attack your village. I don't know anything about the attack, or the grublins, or what happened to your messengers. I swear! Please, you have to let me go back to Warfang."

"Not likely, you purple scum," the elder snarled. "No, the only way you're getting out of this is if you cooperate."

"I am!" Spyro insisted desperately. "I'm not lying to you! Please, you have to listen—"

"Enough!" the large fire dragon roared, cutting Spyro short and causing him to jump badly. Then, in a hard tone, he said, "Now, I'm going to make this very simple for you to understand. I'm going to ask you a question, and you're going to give me a straight answer. If you don't, you're going to regret it. Do I make myself clear?"

Spyro was unable to reply, a feeling of fear and hopelessness threatening to overwhelm him. It was one of the most terrible feelings he had ever known, to be telling the truth only to have these dragons refuse to believe him. Now, he didn't see how he was going to convince them. He was helpless to make them see reason, and it was nearly killing him.

"Now, since you brought up our messengers, how about we start there? Once again, our most recent group of scouts have not returned, no doubt thanks to your army. We are completely unable to send any kind of word out to Warfang for assistance, but maybe you can help to clarify the situation. What exactly is it that your troops are waiting for out there?"

"I've told you, they're not my troops," Spyro replied forlornly. "I don't know why they're lingering."

The fire dragon gave a heavy sigh, looking disappointed but not surprised by Spyro's answer. Then he shot a glance toward the guard, scarcely more than a fraction of a second, and nodded his head almost imperceptibly.

Before Spyro could begin to wonder what the gesture meant, the electricity dragon stepped forward and, to Spyro's utter shock and horror, opened his jaws wide before unleashing a stream of electricity into the prison. The single bright bolt of electricity arced through the air and connected with the anchoring device of his restraints, and all at once Spyro felt his body erupt with a searing agony. He collapsed to the ground as his limbs gave out, his muscles convulsing violently from the surge of dark energy that the restraints sent tearing through his body in response to the elemental attack. He couldn't even scream, for his jaw muscles had gone so tight that he couldn't open his mouth, and in the end all he could utter was a low, muffled groan. Then, a moment after it began, the terrible sensation passed. Spyro lay limply on the ground for several moments, panting heavily, his body trembling weakly as the after-effects of the pain faded away.

"Now, let's try this again," the fire dragon said, his tone completely even and unmoved by the young purple dragon's pain. "Why haven't the grublins made any more moves against our village? What does it gain you to have them keep us trapped here, but do nothing to aide you?"

"I don't know," Spyro repeated helplessly.

He cringed as the electricity dragon opened his mouth again, and a second later he was overwhelmed by another wave of blazing pain. This time he did scream, and though it only lasted a few seconds, to Spyro it felt like an age. When the suffering finally ended he could scarcely move, his entire body burning. Even the slightest motion caused a fresh jolt of pain to shoot through him, and so all he could do was lie there weakly on the floor, wondering why this was happening to him.

"Once more; what is the objective of the grublins outside our village?"

Opening his eyes slowly, Spyro laboriously shifted his head so that he was gazing into the fire elder's harsh, burning eyes, a pleading, desperate look about his expression.

"I don't know what the grublins are doing," he said in tone that begged the two dragons to believe him. "I swear to the Ancestors, I don't. Please..."

To his mounting despair, the elder showed not even the slightest sign of believing him, and with a cold air about his expression he turned to the electricity dragon and nodded again, except this time it was with a much darker look in his eyes. The electricity dragon nodded in reply, then turned to face Spyro again. The purple dragon gasped in mounting fear when the guard shot him a dark, twisted smirk.

The guard shot another surge of electricity into the restraints, but this time it was much more powerful than before. In response, the restraints poured what felt like more than twice as much power into Spyro's body, and he immediately began to scream and writhe as it felt like the dark energy was tearing his very being apart.

"We can do this all day," the fire dragon warned him. "You're only making this harder for yourself by resisting. There's no point to it, so you might as well just come clean now and stop these pathetic lies."

"I'm not lying to you!" Spyro moaned in despair. "I'm telling you the truth! On the night you said the attack was, I was in Warfang, and when I came here I found this place like this! I never saw any grublins!"

"You've made your choice then," the fire dragon sighed. "Very well. It looks like you need a bit more convincing."

"No, please!" Spyro exclaimed in horror. "Just wait! I—"

It was no use. Before he could even finish his protest the electricity dragon unleashed another jolt into the restraining device, causing fresh agony to rip through Spyro's body. Spyro didn't know how long the torture went on for, but to him it felt like an eternity. The pain was never-ending, with scarcely a pause between jolts for him to catch his breath before the next wave of agony would sweep over him. His screams echoed throughout the dungeon, the sound taking on a deeply haunting note as the echoes distorted it until it was hardly recognizable. He screamed so loudly that his voice very quickly went hoarse, but even then the torture didn't stop. It continued relentlessly, driving his mind and body to the brink of breaking, and there was nothing he could do to fight it.

Then, without warning, it stopped. At first Spyro didn't believe that it was truly over. Any moment now it would start again. He couldn't allow himself to hope, because that would only make the next wave of torture all the worse. He didn't think he could bear it...

But he was proven wrong, for at that moment the fire elder spoke again.

"Have you had enough yet? Because all you need to do to make it stop is tell us what we want to know."

"I can't," Spyro whimpered feebly, practically at the point of sobbing from the pain that wracked his body and the despair inside him. "I don't _have_ those answers. I don't know what the grublins want with this village. I don't know why they're staying. And I don't know how it's possible that you saw me that night, because I swear to you, I wasn't here!" His voice was cracking now, weak sobs causing his body to shake. "It wasn't me. You have to believe me. Please, no more. No more..."

"You still insist on denying the truth?" the elder asked incredulously, and if he hadn't been in such a battered, broken state Spyro might have noticed that the fire dragon actually seemed slightly impressed that someone could undergo such torture and still maintain their 'lie'. "I guess we'll just have to keep trying to convince you. Guard—"

"No!" Spyro shouted desperately. In a sobbing voice, he begged, "Please, don't! Please!"

"So you've decided to cooperate?"

"I told you, I can't answer your questions! If I knew, I swear I would tell you, but I don't! Please..."

Once again his plea went unheeded. However, mercifully this time the torture lasted only a couple of seconds before the guard cut off his stream of electricity and Spyro was allowed some respite from the pain. Outside the bars, the elder gave a distasteful growl and turned to leave.

"I hate to do this, but I suppose a rest to recover your strength is in order," he sighed. "After all, we can't get answers from you if you're dead. However, you can rest assured that, as long as you keep up this pointless resistance, we'll just keep coming back. See you in a couple of hours."

With that, he and the guard departed, leaving Spyro lying in a crumpled heap in the centre of the floor of his cell, whimpering silently, his body curled in on itself as if for protection as he waited for the throbbing pain to subside. The dark power from the restraints that had afflicted him felt almost like a poison, destroying him slowly from the inside with no way to combat its effects, leaving him feeling sick to his stomach. He wished that he could just fight back to end his torment, but he knew that the second he used one of his elements the restraints would only hurt him all the worse.

_I can't go through that again_, he thought in terror, dreading the return of his two abusers. _I have to get out of here before they come back_.

Unfortunately, no matter how strong his desire to escape was, his body simply didn't have the strength to obey him. He could hardly even shift his limbs on the ground; so drained was he from combating the pain. Though the thought of staying in that prison even a second longer filled him with dread and revulsion, he was reluctantly forced to accept that, until he got some of his strength back, he wasn't going anywhere.

Over the course of the next hour, he didn't even move, just lying there with his eyes closed and focussing on willing the lingering pain from his being. He was so still that, to anyone passing by, it would have been hard to tell if he was alive except for the slow, ragged sound of his heavy breathing. It seemed to help, though; gradually, he could feel his pain melting away, replaced by a dull numbness that swept over his entire body, leaving him feeling deadened and far heavier than normal.

When the small platter of food was brought to him about fifteen minutes later, Spyro nearly leapt for joy. The meal was hardly appetizing; in fact, appetizing was the farthest thing from the truth that you could call it. The water was, as it usually was, murky and dirty-looking, while the small slab of meat that accompanied it was so old it looked putrid and Spyro couldn't even identify what kind of animal it had come from. Still, that didn't stop him from quickly dragging himself over to the platter and devouring the meal like he hadn't experienced the taste of food in weeks. In less than a minute the meat was consumed and the bowl of water completely drained. Spyro gave a quiet sigh and wiped his jaws with the back of one forepaw, already feeling revitalized by the nourishment, his exhaustion from the torture being slowly driven away.

Finally, after what he guessed was about another half hour had passed, Spyro decided that he couldn't wait any longer. If he allowed the fire dragon elder and the guard to return, he would be left even weaker than before than the next round of 'interrogation', and after that he might never be able to escape. It was now or never.

It was time to go home.

Bracing himself tensely for the pain that he knew was coming, Spyro concentrated on the task at hand. Then, gritting his fangs, he summoned up all the power that he could possibly muster. Almost immediately the restraints reacted to the buildup of power, and Spyro winced as the painful jolts resumed anew, just as intense as they had been under the control of the guard, but he didn't allow himself to give in to the pain. Soon the air around him was swirling with dark clouds of convexity energy, and the massive buildup of power lifted him into the air. By this point Spyro couldn't stop himself from screaming as the pain multiplied in strength, growing to be so overwhelming that for a moment he thought that it was going to kill him. The massive strain grew to be too much for his body to bear, and he could feel blood beginning to seep from his nostrils and the corners of his mouth, the furious pounding of his heart nearly deafening him in both ears.

_Just a little bit more!_ he urged himself. _Don't stop now!_

His scream must have alerted the guards that he was trying something, for just then he heard a shout from farther down the dark corridor.

"Hey, what are you doing?" came the insistent call, and Spyro could hear the pounding of heavy paws slamming against the floor as the guard came to investigate.

Spyro didn't give them the chance. With a final defiant scream, he unleashed all his power. The convexity fury was devastating in that enclosed space, splitting the stone walls and cracking the floor. The bars at the front of the cell were blown completely apart, while the anchoring device in the wall was shattered by the onslaught. Spyro dropped back to the ground, panting heavily, trembling all over and struggling not to be sick. Then the restraints around his legs, neck and tail crumbled into pieces, unable to stand up against his power without the base to power them.

"Hey!"

Spyro jumped in surprise at the sudden voice of the guard, and he looked up to see that an earth dragon had just reached his cell and was now gaping in utter shock at the damage and debris that littered the area as the dust continued to settle. Then his and Spyro's surprised gazes locked, and for a second absolute stillness reigned. Finally, the guard seemed to shake himself back to his senses.

"Prisoner escape!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "The prisoner has broken out of his cell!"

The dragon began to turn to flee back up the corridor in search of reinforcements and to spread his warning, and Spyro felt a wave of fear and desperation surge through him. Thinking quickly, he used his Dragon Time to bring the guard and the world around him to a complete halt. Then, without wasting a second, he sprinted down the corridor, past the frozen earth dragon and toward the exit of the dungeon. He was unable to hold time indefinitely, though, and too soon he was forced to relinquish his hold as he dodged through the corridors of the prison, searching desperately for a way back to the surface and briefly halting time every time he came across another guard in the halls. Finally, after what felt like ages, he had managed to leave the dark, gloomy passages behind him and emerged in a much larger, neater corridor. He immediately put on a burst of speed, eager to be free of the prison once and for all.

When he reached the end of the corridor, he slid to a panicked halt when he found himself in a small main atrium filled with no less than a dozen dragon guards that all turned and fixed him with incredulous gazes at his unexpected appearance.

"Stop him!" a bulky fire dragon ordered, pointing with a wing. "We can't let him into the village!"

Though clearly reluctant to engage a purple dragon in direct confrontation, the other guards nonetheless leapt into action. Half of them converged on Spyro while the other half moved to bar access to the only door out of the chamber, which Spyro assumed was the exit to the prison building that would lead him back into the cavern that contained the village. When he saw the six dragons blocking the doorway, he felt a terrible sinking sensation in his gut.

His only way out was to fight.

_I can't fight these dragons!_ he thought frantically. _I don't want to hurt anyone!_

Unfortunately for him, it seemed as though the other guards were much more willing to hurt him than he was to hurt them. At that moment, three rather large, powerful-looking dragons—one fire and two earth—converged on him from in front and both sides. Gasping in fear, Spyro was forced to duck as one earth dragon made a vicious swing with his tail club at the young dragon's head. Then he rolled to the side as the fire dragon breathed out a wave of flames at him and barely avoided getting roasted to a crisp. It was then that he realized that, no matter how much he despised himself for it, there was no choice; if he didn't fight back now, these guards were going to be the end of him.

After ducking a talon swing from the earth dragon on his left, Spyro leapt forward and, before his opponent could react, he kicked out with all four paws against the side of the dragon's head, dazing him badly and knocking him off balance. In this vital opening, Spyro managed to duck underneath the front legs of the fire dragon and quickly rocked his head upward, ramming his horns into the dragon's gut. With a winded gasp the dragon collapsed, and Spyro barely managed to dodge out from underneath him before he was crushed. Then, before the third and final dragon could recover from seeing his two comrades dropped by such a small opponent, Spyro managed to breathe out a thick icy mist that swept over the earth dragon's paws and froze them solidly to the ground, temporarily immobilizing him.

"Get him!" the same fire dragon that had shouted before ordered. "Work together! Don't let him outmanoeuvre you!"

The other three dragons that weren't guarding the door quickly fanned out, and within moments Spyro found himself surrounded on three sides. He glanced about himself nervously, continuously shifting his gaze to try and prevent any of his opponents from sneaking up on him. He knew that, in this situation, his best chance was to make the first move and try to catch the other three dragons by surprise like he had with the first wave, but he simply didn't have the heart to launch into an attack against dragons that were only trying to defend their home from a perceived threat.

_I would be doing the same in their position,_ he thought sadly.

Just at that moment, though, his hand was forced. The ice dragon on his right suddenly bent low and shot out a trio of jagged ice shards from his jaws, the glistening frozen projectiles racing through the air and ready to impale him in an instant. Out of pure reflex Spyro ducked and spun around, narrowly avoiding two of the shards. The third was too close for him to simply avoid, however, and with his jaw set in a grim scowl he twisted his body and swung a forepaw upward, coating it in ice at the same time so that it was encased in a firm, slippery covering. Using his shielded paw, he deflected the shard upward just enough so that it missed his back by millimetres. Unfortunately, this also placed the projectile on a path for the earth dragon that had been standing on the opposite side of Spyro, and the guard roared in pain as the long, thin spear of ice punched clear through the armour on his shoulder and lodged itself in his flesh. With a pained cry he fell over sideways to the ground, writhing and clutching at the wound with a forepaw. At the sight of this, Spyro felt his stomach lurch violently with guilt and nausea at what he had done, but at that same moment a bolt of electricity sliced past his head and he was forced to return his attention to the fight.

The next couple of minutes were a confused frenzy of activity as the guards tried to overpower Spyro, and as the young purple dragon fought desperately for his freedom and, at times, his life. Before too much longer he had managed to defeat the other two guards that were still engaging him, rendering one unconscious and dislocating the foreleg of the other with an earth missile, taking them both out of the fight without seriously hurting them. That left the six dragons blocking the doorway, and when he turned and squared himself to them Spyro realized with a fall of his heart that this wasn't going to be an easy battle.

"You fight well," the fire dragon, who was clearly the ranking dragon amongst the group, said gruffly. "But your luck can't hold up forever. I'll give you this one last chance; give yourself in now, because we won't hesitate to kill you to keep you in this prison."

Spyro faltered briefly and gulped fearfully when the true weight of the guard's words sank in, but he knew that he had no choice in this matter. He knew what awaited him if he allowed himself to be taken back to that prison. He _had_ to get free and return to Warfang.

"I don't want to fight you," Spyro said in a sad voice. "But I can't let you take me back."

"So be it," the fire dragon grunted.

At their leader's signal, two of the guards leapt forward straight for Spyro while two more began circling around to the sides to trap him. The lead guard and another earth dragon remained standing in front of the door to block it off, but Spyro hardly had a moment to glance in their direction as he frantically tried to defend himself against the two dragons that had charged him. It took every ounce of his strength and focus to block or dodge the lashing talons, fangs, wings and tails of the two attackers, and even despite the situation he had to admit he was impressed by the two dragons' skill. They attacked so quickly and so relentlessly that he didn't have a single opportunity to land a blow of his own. He was entirely on the defensive, and all the while he was aware of the two flanking dragons still circling around behind him. Then, at that moment, they leapt into the fray, trapping Spyro completely.

Now facing four opponents, all of whom were much larger and stronger than he was, Spyro was almost entirely at their mercy. While he still did manage to deflect or avoid almost all of the other dragons' attack, he could feel his strength rapidly waning as the battle drew on. He had been severely weakened already by the torture and the countless days of malnutrition, and now he found that his body simply couldn't keep up with the pace of the battle. Before too much longer he was getting struck regularly from all sides, several bleeding cuts being opened up all along his body that only served to weaken him further. Then, as Spyro tried to jump away from the incoming club of an earth dragon's tail, he felt his insides knot with pure horror when the unthinkable happened.

He slipped.

With a weak grunt Spyro crashed into the hard stone floor, wincing as he felt the wind rush out of him. Barely an instant later, though, he felt terror explode through him when he saw the large, spiked club still bearing down on him, and he was barely able to roll out of the way before he was crushed beneath it. Still, he didn't escape entirely, and he cried out in pain as he felt his right forepaw get caught between the club and the stone floor. He tried to wrench his paw free, but the earth dragon held his tail firmly in place and prevented him from escaping. He was stuck. Then, only a second later, he felt a fresh lance of pain explode through him when an ice dragon's jagged tail blade stabbed into his flank, and he screamed as agony filled his being.

"We've got him now!" an excited voiced called triumphantly.

_No!_ Spyro thought frantically. _I can't let them take me!_

Out of pure desperation and instinct for survival, Spyro gathered up a large charge of electricity within his body and, before he even fully knew what he was doing, unleashed it in a shockwave of crackling energy. The four guards grunted in surprise and pain as electricity coursed through their bodies, and the force of the shockwave knocked them back a few metres along the floor. Spyro gasped weakly as the ice dragon's blade was yanked back out of his flesh, but he barely paused to acknowledge the pain before scrambling to his feet, wincing as he put weight on his right forepaw which felt that it had been sprained, if not worse, from the earth dragon's club. Then he squared himself to the two dragons still guarding the door, which were gazing at him with looks of surprise on their faces. Realizing that he had to act quickly before the other guards regained their senses, he sighed resignedly and drew on his convexity power, causing the air around his body to glow with an ominous violet light as a ball of dark energy grew within his jaws.

"Move!" the fire dragon guard shouted when he saw the attack coming.

He and the other earth dragon leapt to the sides a mere instant before Spyro unleashed the beam of convexity that he had charged up. The two guards barely made it clear of the door before the convexity beam blew it apart, leaving the way out into the village clear as dust filled the chamber. Without wasting an instant Spyro tapped into his Dragon Time power with whatever remained of his strength and, once the world around him had slowed to a halt, sprinted through the now-open doorway and into the village, relinquishing his hold on time almost the instant he was through the door and out of sight, gasping from exhaustion.

"Where did he go?" the fire dragon guard asked, a bewildered look on his expression as he looked about the chamber and found that the purple dragon had vanished.

To Spyro's immense relief, the street outside the prison complex was deserted, and by the almost complete darkness that dominated within the cavern, save for the light of a few torches lit in the streets, he guessed that this was because it was some time in the middle of the night. Within moments he had found a narrow, deserted alley and hastily ducked inside it, collapsing into an exhausted heap once he was safely out of sight and panting feverishly as he tried to recover his strength. He was shaking all over from fear, pain and adrenaline, and the multiple cuts along his body were slowly seeping blood, not to mention the steady stream that was flowing from the stab wound in his flank.

_I need to get out of this place_, he thought to himself.

He knew it was far more likely that he might find a cluster of red spirit gems somewhere outside of the cavern, especially since the residents of the village had been holed up inside ever since the attack they had suffered, no doubt using all red gems available to treat wounded. As he lay there bleeding, though, he found that he hardly even had the energy left to stand. Still, he realized that he couldn't afford to just lie there. The rate of bleeding from his wounds wasn't immediately life-threatening, but if he didn't get them healed soon he knew that he could still bleed out over time.

The sudden sound of frantic shouting from somewhere down the street caught his attention, and with a jolt of fear Spyro realized that the guards from the prison were sounding the alarm to alert the village of his escape. Soon enough the streets would no doubt be crawling with dragons searching for him. He couldn't afford to rest any longer. He had to move, and quickly.

Groaning from the effort, he pushed himself back to his feet and turned toward the entrance of the alleyway before sprinting as fast as his exhausted legs would carry him, making a dash for the exit at the western edge of the cavern through which he had first entered the village and hoping fervently that he was able to stay ahead of the dragons searching for him. He ran blindly through the streets, following any route that could lead him in a westerly direction, not caring whether his path led him through enclosed alleyways or open courtyards. Though he tried his best to avoid all other dragons in the village, as the commotion made by the Guard grew in volume more and more dragons were venturing into the streets to investigate, and it soon became impossible for Spyro to find a completely deserted route.

Whenever he encountered another dragon in the street, they would always react either with a look of terror that would come over them as they rapidly retreated away from him, or else with loud snarls of fury. In the cases when they reacted defensively, Spyro was forced to use his Dragon Time to escape them before they attacked him, though in his weakened state he could barely maintain it for more than a couple of seconds. Finally, though, the buildings around him began to grow smaller and farther between, and moments later he had left the village behind him and was approaching the sealed exit rapidly. Using Dragon Time one final time, Spyro moved up to the stone barrier that had been constructed over the entranceway and used his earth power to create an opening in it just large enough for him to squeeze through. Then, once he was through he sealed it again before turning around and sprinting for the trees below. Only once he was safely hidden beneath the canopy of leaves and needles did he allow himself to stop, collapsing breathlessly on his side on the ground.

How long he remained there, he didn't know. There he lay, legs and wings splayed limply out in the dirt as his chest and flanks heaved desperately for air. So utterly drained was he that on a couple of occasions he thought he began to slip out of consciousness, but by some feat of willpower he managed to maintain alertness. He found some relief in the fact that no one seemed to be following him any longer, at least, but the pain in his body was still great enough that the relief didn't last. He was unbearably tired and weak, but he knew that he still needed to treat his wounds before his condition worsened any more. Groaning resignedly, he struggled to roll himself onto his belly before shakily pushing himself to his feet. Then, turning south, he began his trek through the woods in search of spirit gems.

Progress was agonizingly slow, but every time he tried to push his pace the pain shooting through him made the speed impossible to maintain. He realized with a feeling of distaste that he was a complete mess; though for the most part his wounds were only minor, with the obvious exception of the puncture wound in his flank, the blood that had seeped from them now covered his scales with stripes of a sickly brownish-red. The thin trails of dried blood that ran from his nostrils and the corners of his mouth only added to the grisly effect. Add to that the way he walked with a pronounced limp, his right forepaw already swelling around the wrist, and the result was a dragon who looked like he had emerged from a scene out of a nightmare.

_Why did this happen to me?_ Spyro thought dejectedly. _Why am I being blamed for something I know nothing about? Why was I so unable to convince those dragons of my innocence?_

A swell of despair rose within him at these thoughts, but the feeling paled in comparison to the pain brought on by his most pressing question.

_Why did no one come for me?_

He was snapped out of his depressed wonderings, however, when a sudden rustle reached his ears. Immediately Spyro went rigid, his head shooting up, and anxiously he scanned his surroundings for any sign of a pursuer. In the darkness of the night beneath the cover of the trees it was almost impossible to see anything, but he now had the distinct feeling that he wasn't alone in the woods anymore. Someone, or something, was watching him.

The sound of a twig snapping behind him and to his left caused Spyro to snap his head around with a weak gasp. His gaze immediately fell on a low bush about a dozen feet away from him, and for just a split second Spyro thought he caught a glow of white light between the leaves of the bush before they darted out of sight. He had no idea what the glow might have been, but for a moment he thought that they had looked like eyes.

Fear coursed through him, and without a second thought Spyro turned southward once again and took off running as fast as his wounded paw would allow him. He didn't know what it was that he had seen, but whatever it was—dragon, grublin, or something even fouler—he feared that in his present state he wouldn't have the strength to fight it if it overtook him. Pushing his pace faster, straining with all his will and might, he tried to put as much distance between him and his stalker as possible while he attempted to locate a spirit gem to heal his wounds and restore his strength.

A pained cry slipped past his jaws when he suddenly felt his right forepaw strike something solid that had been masked by a low bush, and he grunted when he fell flat on his chest on the ground. After the impact he rolled a few metres through the rough dirt before settling into a heap on his side, pain exploding up from his wounded paw and from the wound in his flank, which stung horribly as dirt spilled into it. Weakly he struggled to his feet, having to grit his fangs tightly when he pushed against his right paw, sending a fresh jolt of pain up his leg. Just at that moment, though, his eyes fell upon what had tripped him, and he gasped in shock.

It was the tip of a green-scaled tail, partially hidden by the bushes amongst the trees. Cautiously, he approached it. As he drew nearer and squinted into the darkness, he began to make out the shape of a figure lying there, and he gasped again when he finally realized that it was a dragon. Judging by the colour of his scales and the club on the very tip of his tail, Spyro realized that it was an earth dragon, but the darkness and underbrush that concealed him was so thick that he couldn't even begin to make out any defining features about him, other than the figure's general stature that told him it was a male. What puzzled him, though, was the way that the figure was completely motionless. What also caught his eye was the way that many of the branches and bushes behind him appeared broken, as if the figure had crashed into the woods on a southward trajectory. Judging from the damage, it had not been a gentle landing. Just then he reached the figure's side, and with a trembling forepaw he reached up to pull back the leaves of the bushes that obstructed his face.

Almost immediately Spyro recoiled, a tremendous wave of horror crashing over him when he saw the dragon's face, and all at once he was overcome with a weak, cold feeling that stole all strength away from him.

"Demetrius," he whispered hoarsely.

There was no mistaking his travelling companion now as Spyro finally noticed the dull bronze scout's armour that adorned the body. Even in the darkness, he could now make out the way one of his legs and one of his wings were bent at odd angles, clearly broken in the fall through the woodsy canopy and the impact with the unforgiving earth. His face was frozen with a tight expression of pain stretched across it, dried blood crusted around his mouth and snout, no doubt from the crash.

That was when he finally noticed the arrows. Dozens of the black, gnarled shafts were protruding from the earth dragon's chest, flanks, and underbelly. A couple had even lodged in the tough membranes of his wings, the dark metal tips stained with his blood. Spyro felt his stomach churn with revulsion when he noticed the way that the broken flesh around the arrows had become discoloured from decay, and he had to fight back the urge to be sick when the realization hit him that Demetrius had been dead for quite some time now.

_He never made it to Warfang_, he realized with a swell of horror, but mostly sadness. _He barely even made it out of the village._

He gazed more closely at one of the arrows, studying its black shaft and fletching and its generally unrefined appearance, and he quickly realized what kind of creature had crafted it.

_Grublins_.

It hit him then that the grublins that the elders claimed had been attacking their messengers must have also attacked Demetrius on his way out of the village to prevent word of the attack from reaching Warfang. That realization, however, brought on another, far more confusing revelation, and Spyro faltered suddenly in confusion.

That meant that the grublins had been watching the entrance to the village cavern all along, and that they had _let_ him enter the village, all without him seeing even a sign of their presence. Had they known that the villagers would then capture him?

Spyro jumped slightly when, at that moment, the rustling sound he had heard before came again, and cautiously he began backing away from Demetrius's cold, motionless form and into a small clearing between the trunks of the trees, the patchy canopy above him allowing a faint glimmer of moonlight in to illuminate his surroundings, but he could see no sign of anyone else around him. Fearing that it might be grublins, Spyro slowly crouched into a fighting stance, trying to quell the anxiety that was growing within him.

He never saw the attack coming. The only warning he got was the sound of a body bursting through the bushes on his right before something slammed into his flank full force, knocking the wind out of him and sending him tumbling to the ground. He cried out in pain as his right forepaw was twisted in the fall, but the shout was cut short almost immediately when he felt something land on top of him, pressing his shoulders and head into the ground and snapping his jaws shut. He and this unseen figure rolled along the ground for a moment in a tangle of limbs before Spyro finally came to a stop sprawled out on his back. His attacker landed roughly on top of him, and barely an instant later Spyro found himself pinned to the ground with the unknown figure standing over him. Then he tensed when he felt something sharp press against his throat and he closed his eyes tightly, waiting for a blade to tear into his neck and end his life, but a moment later he felt confusion rush through him when the strike didn't come. Slowly, he opened his eyes, but when he finally saw his attacker he was shocked.

There, standing over him, was a young white dragon, holding Spyro down with his forepaws while he pressed a tail blade to the purple dragon's neck.

"Don't move," the dragon snarled through gritted fangs, a clear note of seriousness in his young voice and anger burning in his bright blue eyes.

For a moment Spyro was too shocked to do anything, but when he came back to his senses he thought quickly before freezing the world around him with Dragon Time. He managed to extract himself from beneath the other dragon in only a couple of seconds of squirming. Then, once he was freed, he retreated several metres before releasing time again. With a startled exclamation the young white dragon fell forward on his face on the ground when he found that Spyro was no longer underneath him, but almost immediately he was on his feet again and after glancing around rapidly to locate his quarry he squared himself to Spyro and crouched low into a fighting stance.

Spyro was too surprised by the sudden appearance of this dragon to do anything more than stand there and stare in bewilderment at his attacker. While he had been expecting dragons from the village to pursue him after he had left the cavern, he had never imagined that one of those dragons would be one so young. Had he perhaps snuck out without anyone noticing him to confront the purple dragon alone? There was no way of knowing, and now, as he looked at the dragon standing before him, he found himself at a loss for words.

He looked to be almost the same age as Spyro was; two years younger at the absolute most, Spyro guessed. His scales, to Spyro's surprise, were almost pure white, and this was the first dragon he had ever seen with such a colouring. What was even more unusual than that, though, was the colour of his chest and wing membranes. In these areas he could make out not just one colour, but three or four, predominantly a very dark blue but fringed in deep red, dark green and other mixtures in between. His straight, grey horns looked very sharp, as were his talons, and a broad, thin triangular-shaped blade adorned the tip of his tail. His eyes were a bright blue in colour, but what caught Spyro's attention most about them was the way that they were glowing with a cold white light, very nearly obscuring the dragon's pupils and irises completely from view, and the sight sent a chill along Spyro's spine.

_What kind of dragon could he possibly be?_

More importantly, Spyro wondered what he was even doing there. However, he didn't have to wonder for long, because just at that moment the other dragon spoke.

"What did you do with my brother?" he demanded, a fierce note of anger and loathing in his voice and a look of desperation hiding behind the rage in his glowing eyes. "Where is he?"

"What...your brother?" Spyro stammered. "I...I don't know what you're talking ab—"

"You're lying!" the white dragon shouted, with such force in his voice that Spyro jumped and unconsciously retreated another step from him. "Your army captured him, didn't they? What did you tell them to do with him? Tell me!"

Spyro swallowed nervously, having a very difficult time holding the burning gaze of the other young dragon. It was easy to see that he was angry enough, and desperate enough, to go on the attack at any moment, though Spyro couldn't begin to guess what might have pushed him to such a state in the first place. Still, he knew that he had to try and talk him down, for in his current state he doubted he would stand much of a chance against another dragon in a fight. He weakly cleared his throat.

"Listen," he said cautiously, holding up a forepaw. "There's been a mistake. I don't know anything about the army that attacked your village, alright?"

"Yes you do!" the white dragon snapped defiantly, stamping a forepaw against the ground. "You led them! You nearly destroyed my home, and you took my brother away from me! Now where is he?"

"I don't know where your brother is!" Spyro said helplessly. "And I'm not the one that attacked your village!"

The white dragon looked stunned for a moment by his last words, but almost immediately the rage returned to his expression.

"Liar!" he screamed. "I _saw_ you with the grublins! You were right there, just a few metres away from me, and you ordered the grublins to capture my brother! He's the only family I have left, and you just took him away from me! You took _everything _from me! Now tell me what you did with him!"

Spyro was shocked when he heard the deep note of grief that had become laced into the younger dragon's voice and expression without warning, and when he saw the glint of tears forming in his glowing eyes he felt a terrible wave of sadness and sympathy surge through him, but at the same time the feeling of helplessness within him was only continuing to grow. First he had been blamed by the elders for an attack that he hadn't committed, and now this dragon was saying that he had _witnessed_ Spyro ordering the grublins to take his brother away from him? How could he possibly convince him that this wasn't the case?

"I don't have your brother!" Spyro protested desperately. "I don't know where he is, I swear!"

"Stop lying to me!" the white dragon cried. "I know you have him! Where is Claymore? Tell me what you did with him now, or I swear I'll blast you to pieces right here!"

"What?" Spyro blurted, rearing back in shock.

_Is he really going to attack me for something I didn't do?_ he wondered frantically.

"You don't think I can do it?" the white dragon snapped. "You don't think I'm strong enough to take you on? Well, maybe I'm not, but I don't have anything to lose anymore, so just try lying to me again! Now tell me where he is!"

"I told you, I don't know!"

Spyro gasped in shock and fear as the white dragon let out a bellowing roar of rage. Then his eyes went wide with fear when the younger dragon cracked his jaws open wide and Spyro saw a bright glow forming at the back of his throat. He immediately leapt to the side, wincing from the strain on his wounds, and he was just in time because at that moment a blinding beam of white energy lanced through the air right where he had just been standing, slamming into a tree instead and boring a large hole in the trunk. Spyro gasped again when his eyes fell on the charred, smoking hole in the tree.

_Was that _light_? _he exclaimed in his mind. _Since when is light an element?_

He cried out in surprise when the white dragon unleashed another beam in his direction, and this time he wasn't fast enough to dodge it. The beam managed to strike him on the front of the left shoulder, and he grunted sharply as the searing pain hit him without warning. It burned severely, but not like fire. The burn didn't feel as hot on the onset, but the enduring level of pain over time was far greater than that which fire caused, and Spyro staggered and groaned through gritted fangs as the searing sensation spread across his shoulder and throughout his entire being.

He was suddenly snapped back to the present when the white dragon let out another sharp roar, and before he could react he felt the wind rush out of him when the dragon charged over and rammed him full force with his horns in the chest. He was knocked several feet backward and landed roughly on the ground with a heavy grunt, and with a furious snarl the dragon immediately charged again. Spyro scrambled to his feet and twisted his body away to dodge a swipe of the white dragon's talons, then ducked under another before jumping into the air and pounding his wings backward to escape a vicious swing of his bladed tail, landing with several metres of fresh separation between them.

"Stop!" Spyro exclaimed desperately. "I don't want to fight you!"

"Then tell me where my brother is!"

"I can't! I don't know!"

He yelped in fear as another blazing beam of light shot past him, missing his head by centimetres, and the flash from it was so bright that he had to blink several times to clear the stars from his vision. When he could see again, though, he faltered.

The other dragon was gone.

_Where did he go?_ Spyro thought anxiously, looking around for any sign of his opponent. _He can't have just disappeared!_

Just at that moment Spyro suddenly thought he heard the soft sound of a paw hitting the dirt and grass behind him, and before he could turn around he was suddenly struck by what felt like the side of a tail on his lower flank with surprising force. Spyro cried out in pain and surprise and stumbled, barely able to keep his balance. Once he had stabilized himself he spun around to face his attacker, but faltered when he found no one there.

"What...?" he muttered.

Without any warning he received a crushing blow to his gut, and he doubled over with a winded grunt. Barely an instant later he growled in pain as he felt a set of talons rake across his cheek, drawing fresh blood, and only a moment after that something rammed him hard on his left flank, right on top of his previous stab wound, and he screamed as agony shot up from the wound and fell weakly to the ground, curling into a defensive ball and clutching at the gash in his side with his swollen forepaw, feeling blood still seeping from it. At that moment, though, something roughly shoved him from in front, even though he still couldn't see anyone there, causing him to roll over onto his back. He immediately felt something pushing down on his shoulders and chest, pinning him firmly to the ground. Then he went rigid all over as he felt the tip of a blade pressing against his throat again, but this time much more forcefully than before.

His eyes widened in shock and surprise as the air above him seemed to shimmer before the white dragon gradually appeared like some spectre materializing out of nothing. The talons of his forepaws were digging into the scales of Spyro's chest, locking him in place, while his grey tail blade was pressed firmly against the purple dragon's neck, his tail tensed and ready to plunge the blade forward.

"I'm going to ask one more time," the dragon said in a horribly quiet voice, though his tone was quivering slightly with pain and sadness, an emotion that was mirrored still in his glowing eyes. "What did you do with my brother?"

Spyro cringed as the blade pressed tighter against his throat. Then, with a voice that was made unsteady by the built-up fear and desperation inside him, he spoke.

"I told you, I don't have him," he replied, his tone and eyes containing a desperate longing for the other dragon to believe him. "Please, I'm telling you, I didn't attack your village. You have to believe me, it's the truth! On the night of the attack, I was in Warfang with the guardians and my friends. I swear! Please, believe me! Please..."

The other dragon seemed caught by surprise by the emotion in his captive's voice, and for just a moment a confused look passed through his expression.

"Warfang?"

"Yes! I share a room with my brother. He was with me the whole night! So you see? It's impossible that I was the one to make that attack!" His voice was beginning to quaver with heavy emotion as he begged, "Please, you have to believe me. Ever since I got here, no one's believed me, but I swear to you on my life I didn't do it! Please believe me. I just want to get home..."

The last words came out as barely more than a whimper, and in truth Spyro was shocked with himself for allowing his emotions to show this much. He was almost embarrassed for allowing such self-pity to show through in a moment like this, in front of someone he didn't even know, but spending days or weeks in captivity, being interrogated and tortured mercilessly had eroded his strength to the point that he simply couldn't hold his feelings back any longer. By the look on the white dragon's face, he was just as surprised by the display as Spyro was.

"I never attacked your home," Spyro continued insistently in a tight voice. "I came here on instruction from the guardians to investigate the reports of grublin sightings in the area. That's _all_. I swear, I would never just attack a village of dragons like everyone is saying I did. I could never hurt anyone for no reason like that. I don't know how it's possible that so many people say they saw me that night, because I wasn't there! I wasn't. I was in Warfang, I swear. Please..."

A heavy silence fell between the two dragons, broken only by Spyro's continuing soft whimpers. The white dragon was staring down at him with a tight, unreadable expression on his face, as if torn between his own feelings and instincts. Spyro couldn't begin to imagine what he was thinking. Just then, though, he said something that was totally unexpected.

"I believe you."

Spyro gasped weakly, and he looked up at the other dragon to see a stunned look on his expression as well, as if he had spoken those words unintentionally and they had just slipped out. Almost immediately, though, his expression was replaced by one of dismay.

"What...No!" he exclaimed, suddenly pressing his tail blade harder against Spyro's neck and making the purple dragon jump before going as rigid as stone, his heart racing fearfully. "You're lying! I saw you! It _had_ to be you! Who else could it be?"

"I don't know!" Spyro whimpered helplessly. "Please, it wasn't me! I swear, it wasn't me! I don't have your brother!"

"Don't you?" the white dragon snapped.

"No! I don't know where he is! If I did, I would tell you, but I don't! Please, just let me go! I just want to go back to Warfang. Please!"

The white dragon hesitated, and Spyro looked up and stared straight into his eyes with a desperate, imploring expression.

"Please! I'm begging you to believe me!"

Still the other dragon didn't respond, but as he looked into Spyro's pleading eyes a look of doubt slowly crept into his expression. For several minutes they just sat there, Spyro pinned beneath the other dragon and growing weaker by the second as he continued to bleed out. The white dragon seemed to take a moment to study the condition of his captive, glancing over the many wounds that covered his body, the strange scars left by the restraints and their dark power, and the general look of grief and desperation about him. Finally, he spoke again.

"You swear that you don't have my brother?"

Spyro nodded insistently.

"And you swear that you weren't the one to attack my village?"

Again Spyro nodded. The white dragon hesitated again in a moment of conflicted thought before heaving a reluctant sigh. Then he turned a hard glare on the purple dragon.

"Prove it then."

"Wh...what?" Spyro stammered, confused.

"If you aren't the one who led the attack, then prove it by helping me find my brother. If you do that, then I'll let you go back to Warfang. If you try and trick me or escape, then I'll tell everyone in the village where you are."

Spyro was caught completely off guard by this development, and for several moments all he could do was stare up at the white dragon with a deeply conflicted feeling within him. Every instinct in his being told him that he had to get back to Warfang as quickly as possible and tell them what had happened at the village, but how could he do that now? If he ran, this dragon would just do as he said he would and tell everyone where he had gone, and Spyro knew that in his state he would never be able to escape them all. Of course, if he could somehow prevent the white dragon from spreading the warning then he might have a chance, but the simple thought of doing such a thing sent a surge of revulsion through him. How could he harm this dragon who was only trying to find his missing brother? If he did, he would be no better than what he was now accused of being.

"Alright," he finally sighed in defeat. "I promise I'll help you find him."

If anything, the white dragon looked surprised by his answer, but then his expression brightened, if only barely, and he hesitantly began backing away to let Spyro to his feet. With a weak groan Spyro rolled himself over onto his stomach before pushing himself back to his feet with a great deal of effort. Once standing, though, he swayed unsteadily as the toll his wounds had taken on him finally caught up with him.

"Is there any way we can find some red gems?" he asked the white dragon. "I'm not going to be much good to you in this state."

The other dragon frowned at the thought of healing a dragon that he probably didn't trust in the slightest, but when he looked over the purple dragon's battered and bleeding form again he seemed to realize that he didn't have a choice.

"Fine," he grunted resignedly. "I know where some are. Follow me."

"Thank you," Spyro said with a sigh of relief, and he quickly limped over to catch up as the white dragon turned and began walking eastward toward the mountains. A moment passed in awkward silence before he added tentatively, "By the way, my name's Spyro."

The white dragon shot him a quizzical frown out of the corner of his eye, as if wondering what Spyro was trying to gain by revealing his name and wary of some sort of trick, but at length he let out a low grunt and muttered, "Coronus."

Spyro was slightly taken aback by the cold edge in the white dragon's voice, but then again he had hardly expected any different given the circumstances. With a downtrodden sigh he lowered his gaze and focussed only on trying to keep up with the younger dragon, wincing every time he put pressure on his right forepaw and hoping that they didn't have to go too far to reach the red gems Coronus claimed he was leading him to.

_I just hope that I can get him to trust me_, he thought.

Deep inside, Spyro knew that this would be a very difficult thing to accomplish in the end.

* * *

><p><strong>Yay! Spyro meets Flash. I'll be honest; I've been looking forward to this scene for a while.<strong>

**Actually, I've been looking forward to this whole section of the story for a while...**

**Anyway, back to Warfang next chapter. Until next time...**


	22. Chapter 21

***Phew* Alright, another chapter finally finished. Sorry that this one took me a little longer; I was away on holidays, and so I got barely any writing done during that time. That, and class has started again for me, so yeah...**

**Anyway, remember how I said last time that I had been looking forward to writing this whole section of the book? Well, here's another chapter that sticks to that theme. :) Don't know why, but I've had this one in my head for a while now, and now it's done! I'll tell you, though, I cannot WAIT until next chapter. It's gonna be a good one! Not to mention another one that's coming up soon...  
><strong>

**};) Hee hee hee...**

**Well, enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 21:<span>_

"Hey, Cynder!" Sparx called out when he caught sight of the black dragoness sitting alone in the main dining hall, staring out one of the high, narrow windows that let natural light into the expansive interior.

Cynder, however, didn't even hear the dragonfly's call. She was so absorbed in her own thoughts that she was completely oblivious to the world around her. Ever since the training session the day before, all she had been able to think about was the strange way that Spyro had been acting—not to mention the fact that he had somehow been able to best an extremely powerful fire dragon at his own element with _no_ prior training in that element's advanced uses. Apparently the guardians had also been lost for words to describe the situation, and from what she had been told by Faren, Sirius was in a kind of shock over the whole incident.

She couldn't say that she blamed him.

"Cynder?" Sparx said again, fluttering closer to the motionless dragoness curiously. "Hello? Cyyynderrr..."

Still she didn't hear him. She only continued to stare straight ahead as she struggled in vain to try and come up with some sort of explanation for the purple dragon's actions.

_Did something happen while he was in the mountain village to make him act like this?_ she wondered.

Something had to be bothering him. That was the only possible explanation that she could come up with. But what? It hurt her to think that Spyro might be troubled by something, but that he would be unwilling to confide in her what it was.

At that moment, it seemed as though Sparx grew tired to being ignored. With a deep scowl on his features he fluttered over until he was hovering right by Cynder's ear before taking in a massive breath of air.

"HEY MISS NIGHT TERROR!"

Cynder let out a startled squeal and nearly jumped out of her scales at the unexpected shout. Out of pure reflex she instantly snapped her left wing up, catching Sparx firmly in the chest with the leading edge. With a winded grunt he was knocked backward through the air before crashing down onto the top of the table. When she realized that the shout had only been the annoying dragonfly, Cynder gave a strained sigh and tried to calm her pounding heart.

"Are you alright?" she asked, glancing to where he was still lying flat on his back on the polished wood of the table.

"Oh, I'm just great," Sparx groaned weakly as he tried to push himself up off the table, rubbing the back of his head gingerly. "Absolutely peachy."

Cynder allowed a small, wry smirk to appear at the corner of her mouth. "And why would you think that scaring me was a good idea?"

"Well, normally I would say revenge, but right now I was just calling you and you weren't answering me, so..."

The grin on Cynder's face was immediately replaced by a look of surprise, and she blinked a couple of times before saying, "You were?"

"Uh, yeah!" Sparx said in an annoyed tone. "I called you a few times, actually, and I was getting about as much reaction out of you as a statue."

"Oh," the black dragoness said sheepishly, glancing away with a frown on her face. "I'm sorry. I guess I was just preoccupied."

Sparx gave a loud snort. "_That_ sounds like the understatement of the century. Is this about Spyro?"

Cynder looked down at the dragonfly again in surprise. "You know about that?"

"Come on, this is my brother we're talking about. Nothing happens with him that I don't find out about eventually. I just have this way of knowing..."

Cynder smirked wryly and chuckled.

"Who told you?"

Sparx looked offended. "What? You don't think I know my own brother enough to know when something happens with him?"

Cynder made no reply, just rolled her eyes before turning an impatient-yet-amused glare at Sparx. For several seconds he tried to maintain his look of hurt and innocence, but finally he breathed a sigh of surrender.

"Oh, fine. Mom, Dad and I ran into Hunter last night, and apparently he had just been coming out of the temple where the guardians told him about what had happened. He told us everything."

Though Cynder had been expecting as much, the news that Sparx's parents had been with him when Hunter had relayed the events of that day still caused her to falter, though she didn't entirely know why. What would they think, she wondered, hearing what their adoptive son had done that day? It was a hard enough thing for her to wrap her head around, so how much of a shock would it be for them?

"I gotta tell you, something is really bugging me about this," Sparx grunted a moment later. "I mean, I've known Spyro for our entire lives, and been by his side almost the entire time, and I have _never_ seen or heard of him talking to someone else the way Hunter said he was."

"That's exactly what I was thinking!" Cynder said. "It just seems so strange..."

"Something's bugging him," Sparx said immediately, with a sense of surety about his tone. "And I bet you were thinking the same thing."

Cynder merely nodded.

"So have you asked him about it yet?"

Cynder hesitated, glancing away for a moment before breathing a small sigh.

"I just don't know how to go about asking him," she admitted. "This whole thing was just so unexpected, I'm not sure what to do." Then she looked back at the dragonfly. "Have you talked to him?"

Sparx made a vague noise and shifted uncomfortably, rubbing his head. "Well, I was going to, but when I got back to our room he was just lying there, _really_ quiet, and it sort of weirded me out to be honest, so I thought I should just let him sleep and see if he was better in the morning."

"And was he?" Cynder asked expectantly.

To her mild disappointment, Sparx just shrugged.

"He was gone before I even got up. I haven't seen him at all today yet."

"Me neither," Cynder said thoughtfully. "Have you noticed that these past couple of days he's been acting really distant? It's like he only ever wants to be alone."

Sparx nodded. "I thought it was just me, but Mom and Dad said they've hardly seen him at all since he got back."

Cynder gave a heavy sigh, beginning to feel helpless in this unfamiliar situation.

"I just wish I knew why he's acting so differently."

"Um, simple solution," Sparx snorted. "Go ask him."

Cynder sighed again, shaking her head. "I wish it was that easy, but how am I supposed to ask him something like this?"

She knew that she was probably making this whole situation out to be much harder than it really was, but inside she couldn't imagine how she would confront Spyro with this sort of question. How would he react to have her, someone he trusted and that he thought cared for him, questioning his actions and doubting him? But on the other hand, if there was something that was troubling him then she needed to be there for him. She just didn't know what to do.

"Hey, listen," Sparx said after a short silence had passed between them, seeming to pick up on the black dragoness's distress. "What if I made this easier for you? I'll go with you and we'll ask him together."

Cynder looked over at the small dragonfly in surprise, and it was several seconds before she found her voice again to speak.

"You want to go with me?"

Sparx shrugged. "Why not? We're both wondering the same thing, so we might as well both get an answer together."

"I suppose," Cynder said sceptically, but then a hint of an amused smirk appeared on her face. "But _you_ are actually offering to help _me_ with this?"

Sparx frowned and crossed his arms when he caught the teasing edge in her tone.

"Hey, don't make a big deal out of it," he said irritably. "It's not as if I like the whole idea. But, as much as I hate to think about it, the guy's important to both of us. Since we're both worried about him, we might as well help each other out."

"If you say so," Cynder chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah, alright, let's go," Sparx grunted impatiently, turning toward the exit of the hall.

Cynder chuckled to herself again before rising to her seat and moving to follow the dragonfly, leaving her platter of food on the table practically untouched despite the period of more than an hour that she had been sitting there. A couple of minutes later she and Sparx had managed to escape the crowded dining hall and paused for a brief moment in the street outside.

"So where are we going to look for him?" Cynder wondered aloud, glancing about at their surroundings. "The temple?"

"It's worth a shot, I guess," Sparx shrugged. "And if he's not there, maybe the guardians will have some ideas at least."

Cynder nodded in agreement, and together the unlikely pair turned and set off down the street toward the temple, hoping that they would locate the strangely elusive purple dragon before the morning was up.

The walk to the temple took only a couple of minutes, but along the way Cynder and Sparx were frequently forced to dodge around other pedestrians in the streets. On that bright, sunny morning, the streets and walkways were packed almost to capacity with moles and dragons, while other dragons could be seen passing in the skies overhead quite regularly. Cynder, who still hadn't fully adjusted to the presence of so many others of her kind, felt at the same time awed and also a little nervous. While she was happy to see so many dragons in their city, she was always aware at the back of her mind of the possibility that someone might easily recognize her and that a confrontation might result. Fortunately for her, on this trip no such incidents occurred, and aside from a few suspicious or wary glares in her direction—which she had learned by now to ignore to the best of her ability, even if they did hurt—she seemed to pass relatively unnoticed in the streets. Soon enough she and Sparx were climbing the steps to the temple's main entrance. Cynder paused for a short moment at the top step, where an older dragon couple was looking up at the glow of the crystalline flame atop the monument for Ignitus, and she also spent a couple of seconds looking into the deep red flame, feeling a small smile creep onto her lips when she did. Then, after exchanging a nod with the other dragons, she entered the temple.

Their search was exhaustive, covering the entire temple from top to bottom over the course of the next half hour, but despite their best efforts neither Cynder nor Sparx were able to locate any sign of the purple dragon anywhere. When they exited yet another empty room on the temple's top floor, Sparx heaved a frustrated sigh.

"I don't get it," he grumbled. "How can someone that sticks out of a crowd as much as Spyro does just disappear in a city where you can't go anywhere without being seen now? You'd think that with so many dragons around here, there would be constant gossip of where he was last seen."

Cynder smirked, but she couldn't deny that she was of the same opinion. Still, she hadn't truly been expecting to find him in the temple. If he was trying to be alone, which seemed likely, there were better places to go where someone looking for him wouldn't think to look.

"This is ridiculous," Sparx complained. "There are thousands of places he could be! Gardens, courtyards, dining halls, restaurants. How do we even know he's even still in the city? He could be in Avalar for all we know!"

Cynder was about to reply, but the sound of voices from ahead of them around a bend in the corridor caught her attention. At that moment the speaker was talking in a rather loud, self-important tone of voice that was immediately recognizable, and as Cynder and Sparx rounded the corner the black dragoness wasn't surprised by who she found there.

"I'm telling you, Volteer," Cyril said with a loud sigh as he and the electricity guardian walked side by side down the corridor toward Cynder and Sparx, neither of them having noticed the pair. "Something must have happened in that village that triggered some kind of emotional response. There is no other reasonable explanation for this dramatic shift in behaviour."

"Cyril, you are being unbelievably and unbearably stubborn, closed-minded, irrational, and just plain difficult about what is really a perfectly simple matter," Volteer chattered rapidly in response. "It is well documented and known that at that age a young dragon is prone to unpredictable, unexpected and seemingly inexplicable shifts in demeanour and comportment. It is a perfectly normal step in the maturing process."

"Honestly, Volteer, it astounds me that you can instantly pick out the tiniest facts within an uncountable number of obscure theoretical subjects, but at the same time be so oblivious," Cyril groaned, rolling his eyes. "A mood swing like this _cannot_ be explained as simply 'growing up'. Really, I..."

He trailed off suddenly and halted mid-step when he and Volteer simultaneously noticed Cynder and Sparx just ahead of them, watching the two elder dragons bickering with puzzled looks on their faces. Cynder, however, had a pretty good idea of what they were talking about.

"Ah, young ones," Cyril said, clearing his throat. "What brings the both of you here?"

"We were looking for Spyro," Cynder replied, nodding her head sideways at Sparx. "I take it you two were just talking about him."

Both guardians nodded.

"Indeed we were," Cyril grunted. "Recent events concerning out purple friend are most puzzling, aren't they?" Then he turned a slight glare in the direction of his yellow-scaled companion. "Even if _some_ of us can't quite see it."

Volteer stammered indignantly for a couple of seconds before Cyril cut him off again.

"In any event, if you are searching for Spyro then perhaps it's fortunate that the two of you would run into us. In fact we ourselves were just on our way to investigate a claim of his whereabouts."

Cynder straightened up in surprise at this news. "You were? You know where he is?"

"Well, it's more of a rumour at this point," Cyril conceded. "It's difficult to judge the reliability of the report."

"Indeed, it is a very distinct possibility that, over the course of the sheer number of times this particular piece of news has passed from one ear to another, it would invariably become distorted or altered as a result of the unavoidable lapses in communication that will occur between two individuals who are not entirely familiar—"

"Yes, Volteer, we get the point," Cyril sighed. "Take a breath before you pass out on us." Then the blue dragon turned his gaze down toward Cynder again. "At any rate, we were just told by one of the moles that word on the street is that Spyro is at this very moment in the arena, and if the rumour is to be believed, he's putting on quite a show there."

Cynder frowned, and she exchanged a puzzled look with Sparx, who only shrugged his small shoulders.

"We were just heading down there now to see for ourselves if it's indeed true," Cyril continued. "Would you two like to join us?"

Cynder nodded her head immediately, and Sparx responded with, "Duh," which caused Cynder to roll her eyes in exasperation. The guardians, however, seemed unperturbed.

"Very well then," Cyril nodded. "Let's go see what our young friend is up to, shall we?"

Everyone was in agreement. Together, the four of them quickly made their way down through the temple's corridors until they had exited through the main doors back out into the courtyard. Once there, they all turned and began the walk around the temple to reach the courtyard's northern steps which would take them almost right to the Tournament Dome. Once they had reached the bottom of the steps, they paused for a moment and surveyed the broad, open street that led up to the large, domed stone building. They could make out well over two dozen dragons and moles, walking alone or in small groups, all heading toward the arena's main entrance, some of them chatting excitedly, though from this distance none of them could make out any of what was being said. However, it wasn't hard to guess what the subject of their conversation was.

"It's starting to look like that rumour was true," Sparx commented.

"It certainly does," Cyril agreed. "Come along. Let's have a look inside."

The four set off, following after the scattered dragons and moles that were converging on the entrance. Once inside, the volume of conversation increased substantially in the more enclosed space. As she had expected, almost everyone in sight was moving in the direction of the stairways that would lead up into the stands. Deciding to take a more direct route, however, Cyril led his three companions toward another corridor, which would take them directly to the arena floor. As they passed, Cynder noticed a slight hush fall over the dragons closest to them as they watched the two guardians and Cynder pass with looks of surprise and slight awe on their expressions. Since none of them looked familiar, she assumed that they were all among the new arrivals to the city, and as such it was no surprise that they would react thus to the presence of guardians.

Things became significantly quieter as the four passed out of the main lobby and into the narrower corridors that were reserved for arena staff, participants, and other persons of importance, and Cynder gave a small, silent sigh of contentment as the noise died away. She wasn't one for crowds; she didn't have any problem with them, but still she much preferred to be alone, or in the company of a few close companions rather than surrounded by people she didn't know.

The silence pressed down around them for a couple of minutes, broken only by the soft padding of their paws against the stone floor, but then Cynder perked up as a new, faint sound reached them from ahead. At first it was impossible to identify, but as they continued to walk the volume soon increased enough to allow her to identify the noises as the sounds of a pitched battle. Deep crashes, reverberating bangs, and the deep, guttural roars of unknown creatures echoed down the passages to them, and occasionally Cynder was able to pick up the faintest of tremors running through the floor beneath her paws, as if something were striking the ground with tremendous force. Her brow furrowed in a slight frown as she felt confusion and mild concern growing within her. What was happening out there?

The noise level continued to grow steadily as the three dragons and one dragonfly approached a final corner that would take them to a short straight section of hallway that would take them directly out onto the arena floor. By now the cries and rumbles were clear and distinct enough that Cynder felt she could identify them with a fair level of reliability. There were grublins, of course, and maybe a few apes, and there were also deeper, louder roars and cries that she found familiar but hoped that she was mistaken. Above it all, there was the snarling of a young dragon, and Cynder was easily able to recognize the voice.

"It sounds like we found him," Sparx muttered tensely, clearly unsettled by the sounds of the violent fighting that was raging just out of their sight.

At that moment their small party rounded the corner, and almost immediately Cyril and Volteer faltered in surprise. Puzzled, Cynder quickly skirted around their side to see what had caught their attention, and she likewise paused when she caught sight of the small group of young dragons huddled in the shadows just within the doorway that led out into the arena. There were four of them, all female, and all of them looked to be around Cynder's age. One was yellow, one green, and the remaining two were in shades of red. They seemed completely oblivious to the arrival of the guardians and Cynder, their attention focussed entirely on the arena floor beyond.

"Look at him go!" the electricity dragoness whispered with awe evident in her tone.

"I know," the lighter of the two fire dragons nodded excitedly. "I've never seen anyone move like that. How do you think he got so good?"

"Who cares?" the green dragoness smirked. "He's kicking tail out there! They can't even touch him!"

"I want to know how he's moving so fast, though," the electricity dragoness declared firmly. "Even the fastest electric dragon I know can't do that!"

"Maybe he's using that weird time-control thingy," the earth dragoness suggested.

"So unfair," the yellow dragoness sighed, but with clear amusement. The darker red dragoness snorted loudly.

"Since when is anything that has to do with the purple dragon fair?" she asked with a grin. "Besides, I don't think he is messing with time at all. His movements look too...smooth."

"So you're saying he's just that good," the earth dragoness teased.

"Bingo."

"Man, I wish I could fight like that," the electric dragoness sighed.

"Do you think he would talk to us is we stopped him on his way out?" the lighter fire dragoness asked in a hesitant, but at the same time excited tone.

"Are you kidding? He's such a big shot, we'd be lucky if we even got him to look at us," the earth dragoness snorted.

"Then I guess we'd just need to try really hard," the darker red dragoness said with a giggle.

The three other dragonesses giggled as well, a high, ringing sound that grated immediately on Cynder's nerves. Her talons clenched against the stone floor and the corner of her lip began curling into a snarl, a swell of anger that she couldn't entirely explain boiling up within her. Though she didn't fully know why, something about their giddy laughter made her want to leap at them and give them a couple of good swipes with her talons. Beside her, Sparx seemed to notice the way she was glaring at the other dragonesses and he snickered behind the cover of one hand, which only earned him a burning glare from her that immediately made him shrink back.

Just at that moment, Cyril cleared his throat. The four dragonesses jumped at the sudden noise and spun around with sharp, startled squeals. The grins that had previously covered their expressions quickly withered away under the cold, disapproving gaze of the ice guardian. Cynder expected the large elder dragon to launch into a thorough and scathing reprimand for finding them in an area that was off limits such as this, but to her surprise he said absolutely nothing. At first she was puzzled, and even slightly disappointed, but quickly she realized his strategy. He just stood there, unmoving and unspeaking, fixing the four dragonesses with his unnerving, icy glare, and as the seconds ticked slowly by Cynder could see them growing more and more anxious. Then, when he practically had them trembling before him, Cyril made the slightest of motions with his head down the corridor in a clear sign that he wanted the four intruders to leave _now_. They didn't hesitate to obey, and with a hurried air about their steps they skirted around the group of newcomers, gazing up at them nervously as they passed. They appeared especially unsettled by Cynder's cold, piercing eyes on them. Sparx, meanwhile, shot them a superior smirk as they passed and waved, as if saying 'Bye bye.' Then they were gone, disappearing around the corner in the halls, and over the continuing sounds of fighting Cynder could hear the patter of their paws smacking against stone in their hasty retreat back to the lobby.

_Good riddance,_ she thought bitterly.

"Now then," Cyril grunted with a mild scowl on his features. "Back to business."

And with that, the ice guardian resumed leading his companions down the dozen metres that remained in the corridor and out into the expansive arena, where they stopped just beyond the edge of the stands.

The very instant that her eyes fell on the scene spread out before them on the arena floor, Cynder was overcome by a sense of absolute shock. There, in the centre of the arena, was Spyro, while on all sides he was surrounded by no less than two dozen training dummies of grublins and apes of varying sizes, from the smallest grublins and apes Cynder and Spyro had faced out in battle right up to a pair of the massive, hulking grublin commanders with their heavy shields and jagged, mace-like clubs that could easily flatten a dragon Spyro's size with a single swing. There was even one of the hideous, ogre-like monstrosities that she and Spyro had fought within Warfang's northern courtyard that had breached the gate. Now, as Cynder gazed out at her purple friend and companion facing off against such foes, _alone_, she wondered what insanity had claimed him to drive him to face such impossible odds.

Just at that moment, Spyro was charged by five of his opponents at once from three different directions. Two small grublins sprinted toward him from behind with shrill, eager cries, while two larger apes leapt at him from his left flank. One of the two grublin commanders joined in the charge, unleashing a deafening bellow and charging forward with massive, earth-jarring strides, swinging its club in a wide arc in front of it. Spyro, however, didn't even move as his enemies closed in on him, just stood there with a hard, collected look in his eyes, appearing completely calm.

That all changed, however, when the two smaller grublins closed to within a few feet of the purple dragon. As soon as they crossed this unseen line, Spyro's expression changed in a flash to one of ferocious intent, and with a sharp roar he spun around and leapt, tackling the leading grublin head on and knocking it flat on its back, moving so quickly that the creature didn't even have time to raise its weapon to block him. While standing on his first victim's chest to hold it in place, he jabbed out sharply with his left wing and caught the second grublin right on the wrist of its sword hand, causing the grublin to yelp in pain and drop its weapon. A quick swing of his tail was all that was needed to send it flying back through the air, past the line of enemies that still had him encircled and were watching with an air of cold anticipation, awaiting their turn to strike. Then, without missing a beat, Spyro reached down with his jaws, clamped them firmly around the shoulder of the grublin pinned beneath him, and quickly spun around dragging the shrieking creature with him. After performing a half-revolution he released the grublin and sent it flying through the air, directly into the face of the nearest charging ape, which staggered and fell with a holler that contained equal parts surprise and rage.

The crowd of spectators in the stands, which consisted of what appeared to be well over a hundred dragons and moles of all ages, cheered.

"Whoa," Sparx muttered dazedly as he watched his brother. "He's really kicking butt out there!"

"He's going to get himself killed!" Cynder exclaimed anxiously, watching with a feeling of gut-wrenching concern as he battled with reckless abandon, showing no regard for his own safety as he closed with foes that towered several times his own size. "What is he thinking, fighting so many enemies alone?"

"You know, he does it more often than you think," Sparx commented. "I remember this one time, when we were climbing up to the Well of Souls..."

Cynder didn't hear what he said next, for her entire attention became fixed on Spyro when one of the two apes plunged the broad, glinting blade of its sword toward his flank while he struggled against the second. She was just about to scream a warning, but just instants before the blade tore into his flesh he lashed out with the spade of his tail, the motion so quick that it was little more than a gold-and-purple blur, and with a harsh clang the ape's sword was deflected down toward the ground where it embedded itself between two of the solid stone tiles. The ape grunted in irritation and tried to wrench its sword free from the stone floor, but before it could the stone around the sword seemed to come alive and sprang upward, wrapping around the length of the blade, right up to the hilt and beyond, soon encasing the ape's hand before it solidified. A look of shock came over the ape's features before it began desperately pulling with all its might, trying to free itself. At the same time Spyro managed to throw back the other ape.

The very earth seemed to shake as the grublin commander took a heavy step forward and lifted its club high, eager to take advantage of the purple dragon's momentarily vulnerable position as he recovered his bearings after pushing back the apes. Spyro seemed to have been expecting this attack, however, because just before it struck him he dropped to the ground and rolled away. The club missed him entirely, and instead crashed directly into the ape whose hand was still trapped in stone. There was a sickening thud and the sound of cracking rock and bones as the ape's limp body was sent flying through the air, the dummy crumbling away into nothingness before it even hit the ground. Then, before the massive grublin could recover from its swing, Spyro appeared behind it and leapt up onto its back, digging his talons into its flesh so that it couldn't shake him off. The grublin let out a roar of pain and began swinging its arms wildly, trying to hit Spyro but only managing to batter itself. After a couple of seconds of merely holding on, Spyro reared his head back, took in a deep breath and shot a long, pointed spear of ice from his jaws straight into the back of the grublin's neck. The tip of the ice spear punched clear through the grublin's neck and emerged beneath its chin, and at the sight Cynder cringed and felt her gut churn with slight nausea. Slowly, the massive grublin tipped forward before it crashed to the ground amidst a cloud of dust, crushing the other smaller grublin beneath it. Both dummies faded away a moment later, and by the time the dust cleared Spyro had already managed to pin the remaining ape's sword arm behind its back with his tail, which was wrapped around its wrist, before he planted his horns against its back and heaved with both is neck and his tail, causing the ape to flip over with a startled shriek and land flat on its back. Before it could recover Spyro had leapt up and blasted it with an earth missile, dispatching it.

The crowd cheered again.

"He seems to have improved since I last saw him training," Cyril commented, staring out at the younger dragon with wide eyes and a stunned look on his features. "Significantly."

Within the next couple of minutes, Spyro managed to systematically eliminate every one of the remaining dummies, regardless of their size, strength, speed or species. It seemed as though nothing could stand against him. No matter how many dummies attacked him at once, and no matter from how many sides, he was too quick for them. It seemed like he somehow just _knew_ where each of his foes was at all times, what they were doing, and what they were _going_ to do even before they did. He fought like a warrior with a lifetime of experience, and Cynder doubted that even she, with her years of experience as general of the Dark Master's armies, could compete with his tactical awareness even if she had never before thought of him as a tactical thinker.

With a final, deep rumble, the limp form of the ogre dummy crashed into the ground and disintegrated, and when the dust settled Spyro was standing alone in the centre of the arena, gazing around himself as if searching for more foes to challenge him. He stood tall and proud, a carefully blank expression on his face, and the steady rise and fall of his shoulders and flanks as he took in large breaths of air was the only indication that he was even slightly tired, despite the intensity of the battle that had just been witnessed. Just at that moment, his gaze swept over the entrance to the arena floor where Cynder, Sparx, and the two guardians were gathered, and when he saw them a mildly surprised look came over his expression. Slowly, as if puzzled by their presence, he turned and began making his way over toward them. It took Cynder a moment to realize that the guardians were already striding out to meet him, and after a quick shake of her head to drive off her stupor she followed after them, studying Spyro's body language and expression carefully as she watched. Though she didn't know why, there was something about what she had just seen that just seemed off, but for the life of her she couldn't begin to think of what it might be.

"That was a most impressive display, young dragon," Cyril declared as Spyro and the group of newcomers closed to within a few feet of each other and drew to a halt. "I can't say that I've ever seen anyone appear so at ease when facing such vastly superior forces as you just did."

Cynder thought she saw a look of contempt flash through Spyro's expression at the word 'superior', but it was gone so quickly that she wasn't even sure she hadn't just imagined it.

"Yeah, you were on fire out there, man," Sparx added with an approving, excited tone to his voice, but Cynder could also detect the edge of uncertainty to it and knew at that moment that, like her, he was slightly unsettled by what he had just seen and couldn't figure out why.

"How long have you been here?" she asked the purple dragon then, taking another step forward to face him better and fixing him with an inquiring look.

"A couple of hours, maybe," Spyro replied with an indifferent shrug. "Why? Was someone looking for me?"

"Actually, yes, we were," Cynder told him, narrowing her eyes slightly in a scrutinizing gaze. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Spyro turned a puzzled frown at her, but before he could inquire as to what she was talking about Cyril cut in.

"Also, don't you think it would be wise to be preparing for your training session in the temple with Sirius instead of using all your energy here?"

"Who said I was using all of my energy?" Spyro retorted, catching Cyril by surprise. "And what's the point of even going to this training? I thought it was pretty clear last time, there's nothing he can teach me."

"There is plenty that he can teach you, young dragon," Cyril said in a disapproving tone, clearly not pleased by Spyro's response. "And you seem to be missing the whole point of this training. It's not just for your benefit, but for Sirius's as well. It is an important step in his path to become fire guardian, and I would have thought you of all dragons would be more willing to help another in a matter such as this."

Spyro gave a small snort.

"Not meaning any offense here, but if he can't even beat a dragon half his age at his own element, then why is it so certain the he should even be fire guardian at all?"

Cynder was shocked by these words, and it appeared as though the two guardians were as well. For several seconds no one seemed to be able to think of a reply while Spyro simply stared at them one at a time with an impatient look in his eyes.

"Are you insinuating that Sirius is not a fit and able candidate for a position such as that of the guardian of fire, and that he has not demonstrated his high degree of skill, understanding, and discipline in regards to the application and control of his birth element?" Volteer exclaimed, anger flashing in his usually bright, animated eyes. "Young dragon, you seem to not appreciate the thought and effort that went into selecting a worthy and promising candidate for this prestigious and essential position. Do you really think so little of the choice Ignitus made?"

Cynder had never seen the electricity guardian so angry before, and it seemed as though he had taken Spyro's words as a direct affront against his old friend the late fire guardian. Cynder herself was also surprised, and she was sure that the mention of Ignitus would chasten him enough to subdue him, but it seemed to have hardly any effect on him.

"And why _was_ Ignitus so sure of him?" he asked sceptically. "I find it hard to believe that he would put so much faith as you say he did into Sirius like that. Or does he just tell every young dragon he comes across that they're destined to shape the future of the dragon race, like he did with me?"

The two guardians looked as if they had been slapped in the face, and Cynder began to fear how they would react next. Then, almost immediately, she saw Cyril's expression harden in anger, and she felt a deep anxiety growing within her.

"Now, see here young dragon," he growled. "The decision of training one to become a guardian is not something that is come to lightly. Ignitus spent many years of his life searching the realms for a successor that could uphold the lofty position of guardian and handle the intense demands that come with it, even during the height of the war against Malefor's forces. On top of that, a potential candidate is approved first by _all_ the guardians, so when you speak against Ignitus's choice, not only do you speak against your mentor and the dragon who cared for you more than any other, but you speak against all of us, and against the order of guardians in general, an order that has spoken for the dragon race since its birth!"

"If you speak for all the dragon race, then why are there only four of you?" Spyro said challengingly.

This seemed to catch Cyril unprepared, and all he was able to say in reply was, "What?"

"Why are there only four guardians to represent the whole of the dragon race, each a master of one of the elements, when there are more than just four elements? In just the past couple of days I've seen wind and shadow dragons here in the city, but where are their guardians? Why don't they get represented? Why only the base elements?"

Cyril's reply was slow in coming as he worked to sort through this wholly unexpected question, but finally he said, "The base elements are represented because they are the foundation of all nature, and it is from them that all other forces in this world are derived. There was no need to create positions for the other elements, then."

"So you're saying that you're better than the other types of dragons, then," Spyro said accusingly.

"I have said no such thing!" Cyril snapped angrily.

"So you don't think that dragons with other powers are entitled to representation? Who is there to speak for dragons who have the shadow element, or wind, or convexity even?"

At the mention of convexity, his eyes suddenly widened as if an completely unexpected thought had just struck him, but almost immediately his expression brightened in what almost looked like inspiration, and his gaze drifted off thoughtfully into the distance.

"Hey, that's an idea," he muttered.

"What?" Cynder asked, thoroughly confused.

"What's to say that there can't be guardians for the more uncommon powers?" he asked, looking back up at Cyril and Volteer, who were gazing down at him with greatly puzzled looks. "The darker elements and convexity are just as much a part of the world as the base elements are."

Cyril scoffed, shaking his head derisively. "And who would possibly be guardian for such elements? When was the last time you saw a poison dragon, or a fear dragon? And who on earth could be guardian for convexity, which isn't even a natural element?"

"Me."

Cyril blinked several times in surprise, a blank, stunned look on his face, and finally he stammered, "What?"

"Make me the guardian of convexity," Spyro said excitedly, and Cynder was absolutely shocked to hear him saying such a thing, especially with such a tone of eagerness. "It's the obvious solution! And Cynder could be guardian of the dark elements while we're at it."

"Whoa!" Cynder exclaimed, caught completely off guard by the mention of her name. "Hold on right there!" Spyro jerked up in surprise when she suddenly rushed forward and began pushing him back toward the corridor that led away from the arena floor. "I need to talk to you, right _now_. Excuse us for a minute."

No one made any kind of reply, too stunned by all that they had just heard. Ignoring his indignant protests, Cynder pushed Spyro harder and tried to increase their pace, eager to be someplace where they could talk in private. As she and Spyro walked, she was painfully aware of the eyes of the spectators in the stands following them, the dragons and moles watching incredulously, bewildered by all that was occurring below them.

"What in the name of the Ancestors is _wrong_ with you?" Cynder demanded when she and Spyro were finally in the shelter of the corridors and she released him.

"What are you talking about?" Spyro asked indignantly.

"That!" Cynder snapped, pointing with a jab of her bladed tail back toward the arena. "All that talk of being a guardian! Where did that even _come_ from?"

"I thought it was a good idea," Spyro said with a scowl. "After all, why _does_ there only have to be four guardians? Who's to say that I can't be one?"

"What even makes you think that you need to be? Since when have you wanted anything like that? In all the time we've been together, I have never heard you talking about wanting a position of power or authority. You always looked up to the guardians, and respected them, not envied them. When did that change?"

"Change? What do you mean, change? Nothing's changed."

"_You've_ changed!" Cynder exclaimed, causing Spyro to jerk back in surprise.

"Me?"

"Yes! Ever since you came back from the mountain village, you've been acting differently, Spyro! You're more distant, and you're so much colder with everyone! It's like I don't even know you anymore!"

Spyro gave a heavy sigh and looked away, his expression clouding.

"Did something happen in the village?" Cynder pressed, her desperation for answers showing through clearly in her voice and her eyes. "I can tell that there's something bothering you, Spyro. Why can't you just tell me what it is? Maybe I can help. Why won't you let me?"

"It's nothing," he grumbled.

"No, it's not! Something had to have happened, because I know you would never be like this otherwise. What is it, Spyro?"

"Nothing happened," he said more firmly.

"Spyro!"

"Nothing happened!" he snapped, so suddenly that Cynder jumped. "Absolutely nothing, and that's the problem!"

Cynder faltered, and for several moments she could do nothing more than stare at Spyro in surprise as he glared back at her.

"What are you talking about?" she asked finally.

Spyro sighed bitterly and turned away again, looking down at his right forepaw which he was clenching repeatedly against the stone floor. When he spoke, it was with a low tone.

"When I was in the village, everything there was fine," he explained. "There was no danger, no grublins, just a whole lot of grumpy dragons who only wanted to be left alone in their little hole. They would hardly give me the time of day, or listen to me when I tried to convince them that they didn't have to stay there and could just come back to Warfang. They treated me like I was beneath them, like I was nothing..." His expression darkened, and suddenly he pounded a forepaw harshly against the floor, causing Cynder to jump again. "Nothing! After everything I did, everything I sacrificed, fighting for _their_ lives, they treat me like I'm just some nobody that doesn't even deserve to be acknowledged! I've never felt so rejected and humiliated in my life!"

Cynder was stunned speechless, and for almost a full minute she could only watch in silence as Spyro paced angrily across the width of the corridor, his face set in a bitter snarl and his gaze downcast.

"I saved them all," he growled resentfully. "I was the one they all turned to when they had no hope at all, and they expected me to do the impossible just because of my colour, but now that it's over and I've done everything they wanted, they're just done with me? 'Thanks for the help, but we don't need you anymore. See ya!' Is that really _all_ I get in return? I've never asked for anything from them, but I deserve better than _that_, don't I? Don't we?"

"We?" Cynder repeated in surprise. "Why did you even have to bring me into this back there anyway? I don't want power, Spyro. You know that! I'm happy just being somewhere that I'm accepted, and where I can have a life! We have a home now, where we can live and feel secure about who we are. When did that stop being enough?"

"I don't know," Spyro grunted in reply. "Maybe it never was enough, and I just didn't see it yet. Can you really tell me that you're happy, spending every day here with the guardians watching over us, just using us for any mission that pops into their heads? Ever since I've met them, it's been this way! I say, if they're going to turn to me every time there's something that needs doing and never give me any peace, then the least they can do is show a little appreciation and make me one of them! Haven't we earned that much?"

Cynder couldn't reply, her mind whirling with confused thoughts and feelings. She had known that something was bothering Spyro, but never had she expected it to be something like this. This seemed so unlike him, and she couldn't help but wonder if maybe it was a part of himself he had been keeping hidden from her all along. If that were the case, what else might he be hiding? How could she even say she knew him?

With a bitter sigh, Spyro turned away and began plodding away through the corridors, heading for the exit of the Tournament Dome. Cynder only stood there, watching in helpless silence as he left her behind and gradually disappeared from sight.

***.*.***

As Flash approached the edge of the wooded glade that stood just behind the cover of one of the lower mountain peaks, he paused cautiously for a moment and gazed out at the small clearing that lay just ahead of him. The sun had already set almost an hour ago, plunging the land into darkness, but still Flash could see everything within the clearing with relative ease, even without amplifying his vision with his powers.

Or rather, he could see what _wasn't_ in the clearing: there was no sign of the purple dragon, Spyro, anywhere.

Almost immediately Flash felt a surge of anger and bitterness grow inside of him, and in distaste he dropped the groundhog he'd caught roughly to the ground. Then, scowling, he stomped out into the clearing and looked around again. This time he saw a depression in the grass where Spyro had apparently been resting, but he was nowhere to be seen now.

_Figures_, Flash grumbled inwardly. _As soon as I turn my back he makes a run for it. I can't believe I was so stupid!_

He was rapidly overcome with a mix of anger and helplessness; without the purple dragon assisting him as he had promised he would, how would he ever find his brother?

_What do I do now?_

Suddenly the sound of rustling bushes broke the stillness, and Flash immediately rounded on the source and dropped into a battle stance, trying his utmost to suppress the swell of fear that exploded through him as adrenaline coursed through his veins. His gaze quickly located the direction the sound had come from, and as one of the nearby bushes rattled Flash's eyes narrowed into a hard, determined glare that masked his mounting anxiety surprisingly well. Whatever this intruder was, whether grublin or worse, he wasn't about to let them take him. He had lost too much already to just give up, and so even despite his fear he steeled himself for the battle to come, his expression twisting into a snarl as he began drawing on his elemental powers.

The bushes rattled again, and a moment later a figure could be seen moving within them, drawing closer to the clearing and the open. Flash readied himself for an attack, preparing to unleash a devastating beam of light that would surely at least cripple his opponent before they could attack him. Then the figure emerged into the clearing, and Flash was just about to launch his attack when he stopped himself at the last moment.

Spyro faltered when he saw the white dragon's aggressive posture, and for several seconds the two dragons simply stood there, staring at each other in surprise. Then, gradually, Flash relaxed and straightened, and at the same time Spyro began carefully advancing into the clearing, making for the depression where he had been resting before, though he moved with a wary, nervous air about his motions, and his gaze never once left Flash.

"Where did you go?" Flash asked in a hard tone.

"I was just checking the area," the purple dragon replied as he lowered himself gingerly to the ground, attempting to keep his voice as even as possible. "I found tracks not too far away from here. It looks like the grublins passed through this area not all that long ago."

Flash spent a moment scrutinizing the other dragons suspiciously, but at length he realized that he didn't really have a reason not to believe his story, so while he still wasn't entirely convinced he decided to just let the matter drop for the time being.

With a muffled sigh, Flash turned around and plodded back to where he had dropped his earlier catch before reaching down with his jaws and carrying the large rodent back into the clearing. Spyro looked up as Flash set the groundhog down, but Flash paid him no heed. Instead, with one quick motion, he sliced his tail downward and cleaved the animal in two noticeably uneven pieces. Then he tossed the smaller piece toward the purple dragon, who looked down at it in surprise when it landed just in front of his paws. Flash thought that the surprise was at being given the smaller piece, and in other circumstances he probably would have felt guilty about purposely taking the better piece for himself, especially when both of them were so tired from their long, slow journey through the mountains. However, in this instance it was simply a matter of caution—at least, that was what he told himself. The way he saw it, he couldn't allow the purple dragon to regain too much of his strength, or Flash knew he would be finished. He probably wouldn't have given Spyro any of his food at all, except that he was relying on the purple dragon's help to find Claymore and therefore he couldn't allow him to grow too weak either.

However, if he had thought that the purple dragon's surprise had been borne out of indignation at being given the inferior meal, then he was caught thoroughly off guard when he learned that he was entirely mistaken.

"Thank you," Spyro said with a look of genuine gratitude in his bright purple eyes behind his surprised expression. "You didn't have to do this for me, you know."

Flash could only stare at him uncertainly for a moment before his expression quickly hardened again.

"You think that you could catch something for yourself in your condition?"

Spyro faltered and glanced down at himself with an expression that was difficult to read. Flash likewise turned his attention toward the purple dragon's body, studying his present state. As Flash had promised, he had taken Spyro to find a nearby cluster of red spirit gems at the first opportunity, but again the need to be cautious had driven him to harsher measures. When they had neared the gem cluster without actually coming within sight of it, Flash had instructed Spyro to wait behind while he went ahead to collect some of the bright healing crystals. However, he had only brought back enough to stabilize the purple dragon's condition, not enough to fully heal him. Now, most of the smaller cuts and bruises along his body had completely healed, but the larger stab wound on his flank hadn't fully closed over yet, nor had the swelling gone down from his forepaw—although in this case Flash had still made certain that the wound was healed enough that it wouldn't hinder him. Now, to stop the continued bleeding from the stab wound, Flash and Spyro had worked together to fashion a makeshift bandage out of some thick leaves and flexible vines, which wrapped around Spyro's opposite shoulder and midsection to hold the bandage in place. A similar bandage was wrapped around Spyro's right forepaw, applying pressure to support the injured joint. The bandages were only partially effective, though, and as Flash looked at the wound on the purple dragon's flank he could see that the gash must not have entirely scabbed over yet, for the scales around the edges of the bandage were stained red with crusty, half-dried blood. The gradual loss of blood must have been starting to have an effect, for Spryo's complexion looked slightly pale, and his eyes seemed mildly glazed over as if he were having difficulty focussing. Still, the symptoms were so minor that Flash pushed the thought from his mind.

"I suppose you're right," Spyro said finally. "Still, thank you."

Flash was again taken by surprise by the other dragon's words of gratitude, but he quickly shook those thoughts aside and instead focussed on devouring his meal. While he ate, he made sure to keep an eye on Spyro just in case he might try something while Flash was distracted, but the purple dragon made no move aside from slowly picking at his part of the meal. A few minutes later both dragons had finished their portions, and for several seconds only silence reigned until it was finally broken by Spyro.

"So, do you think that you can tell me more about your brother?"

Flash looked up in surprise and confusion. "What?"

"Your brother," Spyro said again. "What can you tell me about him?"

Flash almost immediately became suspicious, and he narrowed his eyes into a mild glare as he tried to decide why the other dragon would ask him such a thing. What could it gain him to know about Claymore, assuming that he was telling the truth and that he _didn't_ have him?

"Why does it matter?" he grumbled at length.

Spyro looked taken aback by the harsh response, but nonetheless he pressed on with his question.

"Well, it would probably help to find him if I knew more about what we were looking for. Can you describe him to me?"

It seemed a reasonable enough response, and Flash didn't see any harm in answering. Still, the idea of talking about something as personal as his brother was an uncomfortable one, especially in his present situation and company, but at length he decided resignedly that it might be for the best.

"Fine," he grunted, turning to sit facing the purple dragon. He took a deep, long breath as he gathered his thoughts. Then, with Spyro listening attentively, he began, "Well, he's an earth dragon, so he's pretty big. He's four years older than I am and he has green eyes, green scales and a brown underbelly."

Spyro nodded thoughtfully, as if trying to picture the dragon Flash had just described in his mind.

"And what's he like?"

Flash sighed with irritation, not at all wanting to reveal so much about his brother to _this_ dragon, but something in his eyes made Flash feel like it was alright to continue, though he didn't understand why.

"I don't know. Like your typical big brother. He's always teasing me or dragging me somewhere..." Then his expression softened. "He cares a lot, though, about everyone. He's always protective, and he was always there for me, even if it must have been hard for him too, growing up like we did..."

Spyro tilted his head and gazed at the white dragon curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we grew up alone," Flash explained in a subdued tone as his mind wandered back to the childhood of him and his brother. He sighed; he never liked recalling those times. It didn't help that he wasn't comfortable talking this much to other dragons in general. "You see, I never knew my parents. My egg was found abandoned in the forest by a group of dragons that were running to the refugee village nearby to get away from the ape armies."

"Your home," Spyro guessed.

Flash nodded. "An old earth dragoness was the only one to offer to take my egg in. I think it was because of the way my egg had no colouring. It must have made people think that there was something wrong with me, that I was unhealthy or deformed or something. She was already caring for Claymore, her grandson, because his parents had died in the attack that destroyed their village, but she took me in anyway..." He trailed off for a moment, a melancholy feeling growing slowly inside of him. "She died from disease when I was only two years old."

Spyro faltered at this news, and he was silent for several seconds before he finally said softly, "I'm sorry."

Flash gazed up at him suspiciously. That sounded...genuine.

"Well, I barely knew her," he continued. "It was hard for Claymore, though, losing his grandmother so soon after he had lost his parents. He bottled it all up, though, and even though he was only six he started taking care of me. Ever since then, all we've had is each other, and we always had to look out for each other." Then, suddenly, he faltered as he was overcome by a wholly unexpected feeling of remorse, and he said tightly, "Although it was usually him looking out for me, because I was always just worrying about how everyone treated me..."

He sighed sadly. He had never stopped to think about it, but now he realized that it hadn't been fair for Claymore to always have to deal with his problems. Claymore had always been there to support him when others were hard on him, but when had he ever returned the favour?

Never.

He had always been too wrapped up worrying about himself, he realized. He was hardly ever there for his brother.

_I'm going to make it up to him now_, he thought firmly, a new feeling of determination gripping him. _I'm not going to give up like everyone else. I'm going to find him._

He was suddenly aware of the way Spyro was watching him, a puzzled look on his features as he studied the younger dragon, concern in his eyes. Flash felt embarrassed when he realized that he had just trailed off and that Spyro had been waiting for him to continue.

"Anyway, ever since then we've always been by each other's sides," he said quickly. "We're inseparable, even more than some real brothers, I think, even if I was only adopted. He always treated me like a real brother." He trailed off again with a small, wistful smile, but then he became aware of Spyro watching him again, and he suddenly became defensive, turning a hard glare on the other dragon. "But I don't expect you to understand."

"I do."

Flash faltered and looked at Spyro curiously.

"What?"

"I understand," Spyro said gently. "I was adopted too."

This caught Flash unprepared, and for several seconds he could only stare back uncertainly at the purple dragon, but as was his instinct he rapidly became defensive again. His expression hardened, and he said, "What, and that's supposed to mean something? You're trying to trick me into trusting you because we have something in common, is that it? You think we're the same?" He growled distastefully. "We're not the same. I'm _nothing_ like you."

Spyro drew back slightly, a hurt look coming over his expression, and with a forlorn sigh he turned away and lay his head down on the grass. Seeing his reaction caused a pang of guilt to shoot through Flash's heart, but almost immediately he smothered it, and with a bitter snort he likewise turned away and lay down, hoping to get some rest before the two of them had to set out again. He knew it would be soon; they were moving only at night when they would be much harder to spot, having sought shelter in a recessed nook in the cliff-side during the previous day, and it was important that they cover a significant amount of ground that night if they hoped to have any chance of finding Claymore. Closing his eyes, Flash tried to get at least some sleep before they had to set out.

He wasn't sure if he ever actually succeeded in falling asleep, but all too soon he felt something nudging him on the flank. He let out a groggy groan and turned away, curling up tightly on the grassy earth and scowling.

"Coronus, get up," the voice of Spyro said gently but firmly. "We have to get moving."

Flash gave an irritated sigh but opened his eyes and shot a bitter glance up at Spyro, who was standing over him and just behind him. Then, resignedly, he rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself to his feet, trying to stretch the stiffness and weariness from his joints.

"So, which way should we go?" he asked at length, turning to face Spyro at last. "Where do you think Claymore would be?"

"I'm not sure," Spyro sighed, and though he hadn't really expected otherwise, Flash felt a small wave of disappointment. "You said that the last time you saw him, he was heading for the north exit of the cavern?"

Flash merely nodded.

"Hmm," Spyro grunted. "Then I guess we'll start there. If he never came back to the village, then the grublins must have cut off his way back to the cave. It seems logical that he would keep going north, then, away from the grublins."

Flash nodded again, gazing away thoughtfully. He had thought of the same thing before he had encountered Spyro, but alone he had dared not venture out into an area where the grublin army was known to be lurking. Now, however, it did indeed seem like the only logical place for them to being.

"Okay, this way," he said, motioning with his head northward. "We'll stick to the mountains until we're past the village."

Spyro nodded in agreement. "Sounds good to me."

With their course decided, Flash turned and began the long trek through the line of mountain peaks, Spyro following right by his side. The journey was a long and difficult one. They dared not fly, for neither of them wanted to be spotted by anyone that might be in the valley between the lines of mountains, by either dragons or grublins, and so it took them the rest of the night to cross only half the distance they had to travel before they could begin their search. They found shelter in a cramped cave near the summit of one of the mountains, but neither of them got much sleep that day with the sunlight streaming in on them and with their own thoughts plaguing their minds. Flash's thoughts were entirely focussed on his concern for his brother, imagining what kind of horrors might have befallen him in the weeks since he had last been seen. He couldn't begin to guess what might be bothering Spyro, though. Once, midway through the afternoon when it seemed that Spyro had managed to drift off into a half-sleep, Flash had thought he'd heard the purple dragon whimper softly, but what his trouble was, Flash hadn't the slightest idea.

Finally, when night fell and the cover of darkness once again blanketed the land, the two young dragons had resumed their journey. After a couple of hours of walking they had finally bypassed the village, and only then did they dare venture down the slopes of the mountains and into the wooded valley. Then, once under the cover of the trees, they moved south-west until the small, sheltered northern entrance of the cave was in sight through the trees.

"Alright, now to start heading north," Spyro said quietly. "Keep your eyes open; there are likely to be grublins around this area."

_No kidding_, Flash thought, looking over at the purple dragon suspiciously. _You should know; everyone's saying they're yours, after all._

They walked in silence for several minutes, their progress agonizingly slow as they continuously scanned their surroundings for any signs of either grublins or Claymore. Both fortunately and unfortunately, they saw nothing for the entire time, but at last, after nearly an hour of searching in the same rough area, Spyro suddenly stopped.

"What?" Flash whispered to him.

"There are tracks here," Spyro replied, squinting at the ground. "They're old and extremely faded, but I can still feel the compacted earth."

"Whose are they?"

Spyro was silent for several moments, lowering his head until his snout was barely inches from the soil, a look of intense concentration on his features. At length, though, he gave a strained sigh and shook his head.

"They're too difficult to make out," he said. "All I can tell is that there might have been anywhere between a half-dozen or a dozen of them, and that one of them might have been larger than the others."

"Do you think that might have been Claymore?" Flash asked, scarcely daring to hope.

Spyro shrugged. "It's impossible to tell, but it's worth a look. Come on, they lead this way, farther away from the village."

Flash hesitated as Spyro turned and pushed into the underbrush, following the trail that he was somehow able to detect. A sense of uncertainty gripped him. He couldn't see any trail; Spyro must have been using his earth element to feel it in the ground, but if that was the case then that meant that Flash had absolutely no way of knowing if Spyro was leading him in the right direction, or purposely steering him astray and into some kind of trap.

He sighed heavily when he realized that he had no other alternative, though. They had found no other sign of Claymore in the entire area, and this 'trail' now seemed to be the only hope he had of finding his brother. His only option, then, was to trust Spyro.

The idea wasn't appealing, but he didn't waste any more time worrying about it. Spyro was already fading into the distance beneath the trees, and making certain to keep his footsteps completely silent Flash hurried to catch up with him. Then, with Spyro in the lead and Flash following directly behind, the two dragons ventured farther into the narrow valley, farther than either of them had ever been before and hoping that, wherever this trail led, it would take them to the object of their search.

Only whatever events would follow could tell...

* * *

><p><strong>So? Was it worth the week-long wait? I like it, at least.<strong>

**Anyway, any comments or whatever are always massively appreciated. (Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing these last few chapters, by the way. You guys are AWESOME :D ) And also, if there's anything in this story that anyone has questions about, do not hesitate to ask me, either through a review or a PM. If something's unclear, I'll do my best to straighten it out (And it'll give me a head's up for what to watch out for in my future writing)**

**Blah, blah, long AN. I'll stop wasting your time now. Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for next chapter! Trust me, the wait for this one will be worth it X)**

**Until next time...  
><strong>


	23. Chapter 22

**Oh, boy, I love this chapter. Things are really starting to heat up!**

__**Hope you like it!**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 22:<span>_

Spyro's bedroom was utterly dark. The door was shut firmly, the cover had been drawn over the balcony, and all lanterns within the space were extinguished. The only light that shone out inside the room was the dim glow that emanated from the small collection of gem fragments that sat clustered together on one of Spyro's shelves. By their blue, green and red glow, a lone young dragon was partially illuminated as he lay motionlessly atop Spyro's bed of cushions.

Nexus made not a sound as he lay there, staring at the spirit gems and the faint shifting trails of light visible within them against their background glow. He had spent the entire day locked within that room, ever since he had left the arena after the confrontation with Cynder. The only time he had left had been the evening of that day, when he had gone to the dining hall to grab some food before immediately returning to the room. Sparx had tried to enter with him, but Nexus had shut him out without so much as a word. He smirked slightly at the memory.

_That ought to get him a little peeved at Spyro,_ he thought.

His mind wandered back to the 'incident' in the arena, both with the guardians and with Cynder, and when he thought about it he couldn't help but feel pleased with himself. After he had made his first move during the training session with Sirius, he had been simply waiting for another chance to present itself where he could make another push to create doubts about their precious purple dragon. In truth, when he had gone to the arena, he hadn't been planning anything. He had simply been bored, and had realized that it had been far too long since he had trained. When living in the Dark Realms under his master, he had trained daily, but now that he was posing undercover as Spyro he had allowed himself to become lax in his exercises. What the guardians and Cynder had thought to be a startling display of skill had really been little more than a warm-up as far as Nexus was concerned.

However, when he had begun his workout, what he hadn't been counting on was for the _perfect_ opportunity to present itself in the form of Cynder and two of the guardians coming to question him. From there, the idea of proposing that 'he' be made a guardian had just popped into his mind, and everything after that, including his story of what had happened in the mountain village, had all been improvised on the spot.

And they had all bought it.

A dark grin spread across Nexus's muzzle, revealing his pointed fangs that glinted menacingly in the glow of the spirit gem fragments, and he chuckled silently to himself. He could hardly believe how easily the guardians, and especially Cynder, were allowing themselves to be misled. Of course, it helped tremendously when you looked _exactly_ like the dragon you were impersonating, and had all the powers of said dragon. As far as they were concerned, it was an absolute impossibility that he was anyone _but_ Spyro, so really he was free to act any way he wanted, and they would have no choice but to believe that it was Spyro acting that way. Still, he thought it was best to move carefully and twist their perceptions of their purple companion gradually, lest they become too suspicious.

He sobered gradually as he had these thoughts, for they brought to mind the obvious next move in this situation. It was one that he would have to execute perfectly, but he had no concerns about his ability to perform the task that lay ahead of him. He had come this far without a hitch, and nothing was going to stop him from fulfilling his master's mission for him.

However, this time, as he thought about what he was about to do, he didn't feel the swell of excitement and eagerness that had accompanied every one of his schemes up to this point. No, this was far more serious, and he couldn't afford to be distracted by feelings. This would be the moment that would decide whether his mission was a success or a failure. Everything hung in the balance. His mission. The approval of his master.

Possibly even his life.

_No_, Nexus thought, shaking his head firmly. _I will not fail._

He could foresee nothing that would interfere with his task. Spyro was surely still trapped within the 'hidden' dragon village in the mountains, so there was no threat of him arriving and spoiling his plans. And the guardians and Cynder were all clearly unsure of what to think. Though their bonds to Spyro were strong, they couldn't help but wonder. Cynder especially was growing suspicious of Spyro now. Nexus could see that easily. She was confused, conflicted, and even afraid. All it would take would be this last push, and all their support would crumble away.

Spyro would be destroyed.

Nexus paused, mulling over that thought in his mind for a moment, realizing just how true it was. If his plan worked—which he was certain it would—Spyro would be utterly finished in this city. He would have nothing left. He hadn't been anticipating it, but even the purple dragon's _parents_ would be present to see what he was about to do, leaving Spyro with absolutely no one that believed in him. His friends, his love, his family; all would turn against him. Then, when Spyro eventually found some way to return...

Nexus almost cringed at the thought of what would happen. Surely it would devastate him. Then, with his greatest tie to this world severed, and severed by those he cared about, it would be all too easy for Nexus to present him with an alternative.

The thought was enough to make Nexus feel sorry for the other purple dragon.

Barely.

_Interesting...,_ Nexus thought when he came to this realization.

Did he truly feel sympathy for Spyro? To his mild surprise, he realized that he did. After all, they were both purple dragons, two creatures that shared an unbreakable connection and the same purpose in existence. They were kin, and Nexus was about to deliver a blow to Spyro that would shatter him.

Still, it had to be done. His master's will _must_ be obeyed. There was no choice in the matter.

Just at that moment, he was distracted when he thought he detected a strange new feeling within him, one that hadn't been there before. For a moment he simply lay there motionlessly, frowning in confusion, but as the sensation grew stronger it became more recognizable. A strange pressure grew within his skull, and a shiver ran through him when it felt like he was no longer alone within the chamber.

"Master," he said into the empty room.

The air around him almost seemed to vibrate as a low, rumbling chuckle sounded within his mind, the pressure at the base of his skull throbbing slightly in unison with the sound.

"_You have done well,"_ his master's deep, chilling voice said. _"Even now, doubts are spreading like fire amongst Spyro's companions. I just recently witnessed the two guardians Cyril and Volteer relating to Terrador what had transpired in the arena through the vision pool. He did not seem pleased."_

Nexus allowed a small grin to form on his face, but otherwise remained still, waiting for what his master had to say next.

"_However, there has been a development that you should be made aware of,"_ his master continued in a more ominous tone, which immediately unsettled Nexus. _"It would seem as though Spyro has escaped from the dungeons in the mountain village."_

"Really?" Nexus blurted. "Already?" Then he paused, frowning in thought. "I guess I'm not actually surprised..."

"_Indeed. He is powerful, and determined. However, you seem to have caught a lucky break. He is not returning to Warfang."_

Nexus blinked in surprise. "He's not?"

"_No. My connection with him is weak, and I cannot sense his intentions, but within the pool I saw that he seems to have been forced into helping another young dragon with some sort of search. I cannot determine what it is they are looking for, or how long it will take to find it, but Spyro is showing no indication of returning to the city until this task of his is complete. You have been granted with a vital window in which to act, and I suggest that you take full advantage of it."_

Nexus merely nodded, the feeling of seriousness rapidly returning to him. He gazed off distantly into the main section of Spyro's room, toward the door.

"I guess it's time for my little finale, then," he grunted.

"_I will be watching eagerly. Remember, do not fail me, Nexus."_

"I won't," he promised firmly. "There's nothing to stop me now."

"_Be prepared nonetheless. You saw what happened to Malefor when he allowed himself to become overconfident."_

Nexus gave another quick nod before rising to his feet. At that same moment the pressure in his skull subsided, and his master's presence faded away into a mere memory. Now with his mind clear, Nexus spent a moment to take in a long, measured breath of air that he then released slowly, collecting himself. Then, with his expression set into a scowl of determination, he marched down the stairs into the common area of Spyro's room, turned toward the balcony and threw open the cover before taking flight and angling toward the temple. As he flew, he took on last, long look at the city that was stretched out around him. His time in Warfang was almost over, he realized with a small pang of disappointment, and he was probably going to miss living in the great city.

_It's been fun._

As he neared the temple, the sky was already beginning to darken as the sun dipped rapidly toward the horizon, the light in the world becoming replaced by the inescapable darkness that covered all and whose coming couldn't be stopped.

Just as the light and joy in Spyro's life were mere moments away from being extinguished.

***.*.***

"I don't understand it!" Cynder exclaimed helplessly as she paced through the darkening streets of Warfang. Dusk was rapidly approaching, and already the sun had set far enough that the city's tall, proud buildings cast the streets below into premature darkness. "How could I never see this in him? I thought I knew him, but I would never have thought that he would have that kind of ambitions!"

"You?" Sparx blurted as he hovered along just beside and above the black dragoness's head. "What about me? I'm the guy's brother, and I never would have guessed that he would be like this. Are you sure you heard what he said right?"

Cynder turned her head and glared up at the dragonfly, and almost immediately he fidgeted nervously.

"Right, dumb question," he muttered.

Cynder gave a heavy sigh and turned her gaze back to the emptying street.

"I just can't believe it, though. I mean, Spyro, wanting to be a guardian? It just seems so unlike him."

"Those dragons in that village must have really gotten to him," Sparx said grimly. "I knew it; I should have gone with him. Look what happens whenever he tries to do something without me!"

Despite the situation, Cynder couldn't help but give a weak chuckle. Still, the action lacked feeling; her encounter with Spyro the day before had left her feeling drained and empty. That evening, when she had passed him in the hall outside their rooms when he was returning from the dining hall, he had scarcely even looked at her, as if he was disgusted with her for not siding with him. It had stung her horribly to see that look of contempt in his eyes, and it seemed as if it wasn't just her. When Sparx had tried to follow Spyro into their room, the purple dragon had shocked them both by slamming door—literally—in Sparx's face, and though Cynder might normally have been amused to see the glowing dragonfly bounce off the heavy wooden door clutching at his upper lip, in this case it had only filled her with shock and worry.

_Am I losing him?_ she thought fearfully. _What do I do?_

The idea that Spyro, in this new and unsettling drive for power, was slipping away from her filled her with a kind of fear that she had never experienced before in her life. Gut-wrenching, suffocating, it seemed to sap her strength and left her feeling frail and vulnerable. Ever since she had been released from Malefor's control, Spyro had been her strength. Even before their feelings for each other had grown to be anything more than just friendship, he had been there to support her. The thought that this support might suddenly be yanked away, therefore, was nothing short of terrifying, and she could hardly bear it.

"There has to be something we can do," she said with a hint of desperation. "I mean, sure, he had a rough time in the mountain village, but there has to be some way we can just snap him out of it, right?"

Sparx threw his arms up helplessly, without any kind of answer to offer. Normally Cynder would have been surprised by his silence, but it seemed as if all the uncertainty surrounding his brother had eroded the dragonfly's spirit and left him completely subdued. To Cynder's great surprise, she almost missed his annoying, dim-witted remarks, for at the very least they had always served to distract from the seriousness of otherwise bleak situations. Now, with his only brother pulling away from everyone around him, he hadn't the heart for making light of the moment.

As the sun continued to set, the pair wandered at a sluggish pace through the streets of the city, which were now devoid of all but a few citizens, most of whom were on their way back to their homes for the night. Cynder hardly noticed any of them, consumed by her own thoughts as she stared blankly at the stone road before her paws as she walked. Nothing more was said between them during that time; there was nothing more to say.

It came as a surprise to Cynder when, several minutes later, she found herself and Sparx at the base of the steps leading up to the temple, and for several seconds all she could do was stare dazedly up at the looming walls of the massive structure, wondering absently what had guided her steps to this place and if there was a purpose to any of it. Sparx, meanwhile, was also silent, though he was staring at the glowing, flickering flame of crystal atop Ignitus's monument. Cynder shifted her attention to the soft light as well, though the usual sense of peace and reassurance that usually filled her upon seeing it was overshadowed by doubt. Not so long ago, Spyro had had a hand in the creation of that burning light, but now he seemed like an entirely different dragon than the one who had performed that act of respect, care, and hope.

_What happened to you, Spyro?_ she thought sadly.

Still, as she stood there, even despite her worry and anxiety she could feel a hard edge of determination deep inside of her. Spyro may have already told her what had happened in the mountain village to cause this sudden bitterness and harshness inside of him, but she wasn't entirely satisfied with his explanation. She was all but certain that, if she could just get him to open up fully to her and talk to her about what had happened, she would be able to reassure him and offer him the comfort and affirmation that he seemed to have such need of at that moment. If only he would give her the chance, she would do everything she could to help him.

Still, no matter how much she wanted to be there for Spyro, it didn't make her feel any less afraid.

For several more minutes she just sat there looking at the statue while the sun continued to sink toward the horizon. The sky was darkening rapidly now, turning to a deep shade of red that, in other circumstances, might have been quite beautiful, but as it was to Cynder it almost seemed ominous, as if some peril were looming over them and they were entirely unaware of it.

The sound of muted voices was what finally broke her out of her own troubled thoughts, and both she and Sparx turned about to find three dragons approaching from the northern side of the courtyard. The first, who was several paces ahead of the other two, was Terrador, and as he drew nearer Cynder noticed a grim look on his features. Behind him were Sirius and Faren, and as they walked they were muttering to each other in silent conversation, a look of uneasiness about their expressions. Then, as the earth guardian reached the steps and began to ascend them, he shifted his gaze toward Cynder.

"Come," he said simply as he passed her on his way to the temple entrance.

Surprised by the unexpected command, Cynder didn't move for a moment and simply watched the hulking earth dragon pass her by. When Sirius and Faren reached her, though, the fire guardian in training glanced toward her and motioned with his head for her to follow, a look of great seriousness in his eyes, and Cynder finally rose to her feet and fell into step beside the larger dragon. Sparx followed right by her side.

"What's going on?" she whispered to the two fire dragons.

"We're not sure," Faren replied, a note of uneasiness in her voice.

"Terrador just came to our residence and told us to come with him," Sirius said. "He didn't explain anything. If I were to guess, I'd say he's summoning us and the other guardians into the assembly hall to tell us all something there."

Cynder nodded thoughtfully, though she didn't speak any kind of reply. It seemed a reasonable theory, and it probably would have been her guess as well, but what could be the reason for calling a gathering such as that? Normally, the guardians only made summons at the last minute when something of grave importance had occurred.

A feeling of foreboding began to grow inside her. Her instincts told her that something wasn't right.

A moment later the small group had reached the main assembly hall, and once they crossed through the threshold of the main doorway Cynder was mildly surprised to find Cyril and Volteer already waiting for them. She quickly composed herself, however, and found a spot on the floor with Faren a short ways over to their left, away from the door but where they could still easily face the guardians that were now gathered in the centre of the room—it was a habit that Cynder blamed on her years spent fighting in a position of authority; not wanting to sit with a door behind her. Only a moment later, Hunter appeared through another doorway, his features schooled into an unreadable mask, but there was obvious tension in his posture. Sirius, meanwhile, sat closer to his sister and Cynder than he did to the guardians, for he knew not what the reason for the summons was, while the three guardians all appeared to. It was a reasonable guess that he was there to be informed, not take part in the informing, and hence his choice of position.

"Why have we been called here?" he asked.

Terrador responded with a weary-sounding sigh, and Cynder suddenly noticed the dark, sunken look of his eyes and the general air of tiredness about his presence, and she realized that he must have been up all the previous night. The other two guardians seemed likewise lacking in rest, and she wondered what it could be that had kept them all awake. Then again, she had an idea, one that was promptly confirmed to be true.

"We've brought you all here to seek your thoughts," the earth guardian declared in his deep, rumbling voice, "regarding our young friend."

"What do you want to talk to us about?" Faren asked hesitantly, a clearly puzzled look in her green eyes.

"Yeah, I mean, what else is there that we can tell you?" Sparx said dubiously. "Cynder already told you what happened."

"Indeed, she did," Terrador nodded. "And Cyril, Volteer and I spent the majority of last night and this morning discussing in great detail all that you reported. We believe that we have come to a decision about how to respond to the incident, but we would like to hear your thoughts before we come to any final decisions."

Cynder, Faren, Sirius, Sparx and Hunter were all caught by surprise by this news, and Cynder felt a swell of uneasiness when she detected the grimness laced into the guardian's tone. Whatever it was they were thinking to do with Spyro, it didn't sound like it was good.

"Why us?" Sparx asked finally.

"Because all of you are friends of his, closer to him than almost anyone else in the city," Terrador replied. "You know him, and, with the exception of the events of the last couple of days, you know how he is likely to respond to given situations. Even you, Sirius and Faren. Even though you have only met him recently, I can tell that the friendship shared between you grows stronger rapidly."

Faren and Sirius exchanged a quick glance, but neither of them made any reply. A brief moment of silence pervaded within the large stone chamber until Sparx finally spoke up.

"Then shouldn't Mom and Dad be here?"

The three guardians all hesitated and exchanged uncertain looks, but only a few seconds elapsed before Terrador replied.

"We do not think that it is best for them to be here for this," he said with a small sigh. "What we are about to tell you may be difficult, and it may be best to wait to inform them only once a decision has been made so that they do not need to worry for longer than is necessary."

"Besides that, there is another reason to consider," Cyril spoke up. "Though they may recently have been reunited with their son, they have been able to spend hardly any time with him since he returned to the city. Before that, there was an expanse of three years in which time they had absolutely no contact with him, or you Sparx."

"Though it is a difficult thing to say," Terrador sighed, "they may no longer know Spyro as well as they think they do."

Sparx looked deeply troubled by those words, and he drew back slightly as his gaze dropped toward the ground, his expression tight.

_It seems like none of us do_, Cynder thought grimly.

"What is it you want our thoughts on?" Hunter inquired after the oppressive silence had lasted for several moments.

"Firstly, we would like to hear your full opinions on Spyro's recent behaviour. And please, be honest. I understand the desire to protect a friend, but you will be doing him no service by not disclosing your true feelings and leading us to make a decision based on incomplete knowledge."

It was clear that no one present wanted to speak ill of Spyro, even despite his recent uncharacteristic behaviour, but in the end, one by one, everyone relented and revealed their feelings to the guardians. For the most part, their accounts were the same; they were confused by the abnormally harsh and brusque attitude of the purple dragon, and as a result every one of them was deeply worried and concerned. Finally, the guardians turned toward Cynder.

"And what do you think about the story he told you as explanation for his actions?" Terrador asked her. "Do you think it truly explains his behaviour, or do you think there is something more he's not telling us?"

Cynder thought hard on the question for a long moment, trying to sort out her mixed and confused feelings in the matter into a coherent response and having a hard time of it, mostly because she herself wasn't entirely sure what she thought about Spyro's account of what had happened in the mountain village. It seemed utterly strange to her that he would allow something as simple as disrespect from a bunch of dragons that he didn't know and that didn't know him—frankly, Cynder thought that they didn't know Spyro _at all_—to affect him so greatly. She thought back to the time that the two of them had made their return to the city after the battle at sea, and how he had reacted to all the attention from the crowds then, how uncomfortable with it he had seemed. That event alone seemed proof enough to her that her intuitions had been right, and that Spyro had never had any desire for fame, glory or recognition, but then again that was all he'd ever received as the purple dragon. How much of a shock would it have been, therefore, to be suddenly treated the exact opposite, with derision and contempt instead of awe and respect? She herself was no stranger to being subjected to the harsh judgement of others, but then again she was almost used to it by now, whereas to Spyro it would no doubt have been greatly unsettling and confusing.

It made sense, then, that the experience would leave him hardened, especially after spending nearly a week there. She still wasn't entirely certain, but the explanation was the best that she could come up with.

When she told the guardians her thoughts, they grunted and nodded their heads thoughtfully with distant looks in their eyes, gazing out at nothing. Finally, Terrador spoke, though it was with a slightly resigned tone that made Cynder anxious.

"Very well, then," he sighed. "In light of these accounts, it seems to me that the decision my colleagues and I had reached this morning is the best course of action to take. It would seem as though Spyro is still struggling with the hurt and rejection he must have felt as a result of his treatment in the village, and until he can overcome it, I feel that it would be unwise for him to continue his responsibilities here in the city. Until further notice, any and all training activities that we had planned for him are on hold, he will not participate in the training of others, he will not be called upon to assist in any further matters involving the grublin situation, and he will be required to remain within the city at all times where we can better monitor him until we deem him to be of a more stable mindset."

Cynder could only gape at the elder dragons in shock, and for several seconds a stunned silence reigned within the hall as everyone worked to sort out what they had just heard.

"What?" Sparx exclaimed, finally breaking the silence. "So, basically, you're _grounding_ him?"

"That seems a little harsh, doesn't it?" Cynder protested quickly. "Restricting him to the city? Forbidding him from taking part in the defence of Warfang and the other villages against the grublins? He's not going to like being shut out."

"That is why it will fall to all of you to be there for him during this time," Terrador replied firmly. "Believe me, we did not come to this decision lightly, but in light of his recent outbursts, his demand to be made a guardian, and his overall unpredictable nature now, we are afraid that we simply cannot trust him to maintain the proper calm and level mindset that will be required as we continue to work toward restoring the stability of our race and peace in the Realms."

"Is that so?"

Cynder started at the sudden, cold voice that sounded out unexpectedly within the hall, for it didn't belong to anyone there already. Quickly she turned her head to look over at the door through which she had entered the chamber, and she faltered when she saw Spyro standing there, wearing a deep scowl of bitterness on his face.

"So, you don't trust me," he growled, a veiled hostility contained within his tone and glare. He began pacing forward, moving further into the hall, his hard gaze fixed on the guardians who were staring back at him with stunned expressions. "Well, that's going to be a bit of a problem, because I've just come to a decision." He drew to a halt a few metres away from the elder dragons and gazed defiantly up at them. "I want you to make me a guardian, and I'm serious this time."

Terrador's eyes widened in surprise at the demand, while all Cynder could do was stare at Spyro in disbelief and shock.

"You what?" Cyril said in disbelief.

"Make me a guardian," Spyro repeated, much more forcefully this time, and it was all too clear by the dark intensity in his eyes that he was absolutely serious. "It's about time that you show me the respect that's due to me and stop treating me like your personal errand boy that you can just send out to fight danger whenever you feel like it. If I'm going to keep risking my life for the sake of dragons that I don't even know and that aren't even going to acknowledge what I've sacrificed for them, then I at least want to be a part of deciding _how_ I go about doing it."

For a long moment, everyone in the chamber was far too shocked to utter a single reply, but all at once the appalled looks on the faces of the guardians were replaced by expressions of anger and disapproval.

"It is not your place to ask for such a thing, young dragon" Terrador rumbled threateningly. "Being selected to become a guardian is a lengthy, difficult process, and one that has remained unchanged for hundreds of years. It is something you are _asked_, not something you ask for."

"You seem to have misunderstood me," Spyro growled in retort. "I'm not asking. I'm telling you, I belong as a guardian."

"The very fact that you can say something like that states clearly that you do not."

Spyro's eyes flashed with anger, and the first hints of a snarl formed at the corners of his muzzle. Even from where she sat, Cynder could see the muscles in his legs and shoulders tensing as he clenched his talons against the stone beneath his paws.

"How can you have the nerve to deny me, after everything I've done?" he said in a horribly quiet voice. "The only reason that you can sit there now is because _I_ made it possible. Have you forgotten that each of you owes me your life, twice over now? First I saved you from Cynder, and now only recently I saved you from complete destruction! But now you think that you have the right to dictate what I can and can't do? I'm not some servant that you can just order around and expect to obey you without question!"

"You think that's what we think of you?" Terrador snapped. "You're our friend, Spyro, and you have no idea the respect and admiration we bear for you because of what you've achieved. Yes, the burdens we've pushed upon you are ones you should never have had to bear, but that does not give you the right to ask what you are now!"

"What I'm asking is no more than what's owed to me!" Spyro shouted furiously. "And far less than I deserve! I'm trying to be reasonable here, but if you insist on being difficult, then let me make this very simple for you. Give me what I want, or I'll have to take it."

The warning contained in his voice was unmistakeable, and just the sound of it was enough to send a tremor of horror through Cynder's body. She was mortified by what she was hearing coming from Spyro's mouth, and the fury in his eyes almost made her quiver in fear. This was _not_ the dragon that she knew and loved. This was someone driven by hate and greed, the very kind of dragon that she and Spyro had fought so hard against not so long ago, and now Cynder was horrified that Spyro could turn into something like this.

"Spyro, what are you saying?" Sparx exclaimed frantically. "Come on, buddy, snap out of it! Listen to yourself!"

"Stay out of this," Spyro growled threateningly without shifting his gaze.

"But Spyro—"

Spyro cut the dragonfly off with a sharp snarl, whipping his head around and snapping his jaws furiously, and Sparx jumped back through the air with a startled yelp, the anger in his brother's eyes making him tremble fearfully. Then, slowly, Spyro turned his head to direct his glare back at the guardians.

"So what's your answer?" he asked coldly.

Terrador looked positively horrified by the young dragons staring him down, appalled that someone who, only recently, had always been so kind and thoughtful could now even utter such a thinly-veiled threat against them. At length, though, he took in a hesitant breath and shook his head.

"Spyro, you need to just think for a moment," he said in an effort to calm the young but powerful dragon down. "I know you don't really want this."

"Oh, how wrong you are," Spyro snorted in reply, contempt filling his expression. Then, with a growl, he said, "This is a dangerous game you're playing, Terrador. If you're wise, you'll take this chance I'm giving you."

A look of sadness filled the weary eyes of the large guardian, but his voice was surprisingly steady as he said, "You're making a mistake, Spyro."

Knowing right away that those weren't the words Spyro had been hoping to hear, Cynder felt anxiety explode through her and she turned her gaze back to the purple dragon. She gave a weak, fearful gasp when she saw him, standing there with his eyes narrowed into slits and practically blazing with murderous anger, his jaw clenching furiously and his body nearly shaking. The air around him seemed to slowly darken, and Cynder faltered in disbelief and horror when swirling tendrils of convexity energy began to materialize around him. At this sight, everyone in the room began drawing back warily.

"Wrong answer," Spyro snarled.

With a defiant roar, Spyro reared his head back and cracked his jaws open wide. Cynder gasped in horror as a ball of convexity began forming between his jaws, while more convexity energy filled the air around his body. Then, before anyone could make a move or utter a single syllable, he shot his head forward and expelled his built-up power in a focussed beam of dark energy. Out of pure reflex, Terrador twisted to the side and barely managed to avoid the beam, which proceeded to strike the far wall of the room, throwing up a thick cloud of debris and creating a rumble that was nearly deafening in the enclosed space. The look of shock on Terrador's face was such as Cynder had never before seen on him. Just then, with a furious snarl, Spyro began charging up another attack.

"Spyro, what are you doing?" Cynder shouted frantically. "Stop!"

"Move!" Terrador ordered as Spyro reared up to attack again.

The three guardians scattered as Spyro unleashed another, broader beam of convexity at them, this one striking the ground where they had just been gathered and excavating a deep crater within the solid stone, sending chips of debris and dust flying in all directions. Faren screamed as the sound of the explosion rent the air and the entire room shook from the blast, and barely an instant later the world around Cynder went dark as she suddenly found herself and Faren wrapped tightly in the wings of Sirius, who had leapt over to cover them from the flying debris with his body. As the sounds of battle rang out, though, Cynder struggled frantically to free herself from the larger dragon's grip and retreated a number of steps before turning in search of Spyro again.

"Spyro, stop this!" Terrador exclaimed, a hint of desperation in his voice as he dodged away from a white-hot fireball shot at him by the purple dragon. "This can't be what you want!"

"Stop talking like you know me!" Spyro roared furiously as he spat out an earth missile, very nearly striking the guardian on the wing. "You've only ever used me! Well I say enough!"

Rearing up on his hind legs, he gathered a massive amount of power into his body before unleashing it into the floor of the chamber as a devastating shockwave. It appeared as though he had infused the attack with power from both his fire and earth elements, for the floor split in a spider-web pattern of cracks as the shockwave raced outward, waves of flame bursting up from the cracks as they were formed. Sparx yelped in fear as the shockwave raced toward them and he quickly dove down and sought cover behind Cynder's shoulder. Cynder, meanwhile, felt panic explode through her at the sight of the wave of splitting earth and raging fire racing toward her, and out of instinct she leapt up into the air and beat her wings sharply downward once, barely managing to avoid being scorched by the flames. When she landed, she saw that the three guardians had been staggered by the attack, as had Sirius and Hunter.

"Surround him!" Terrador shouted to Cyril and Volteer. "We have to stop him!"

Cynder was seized by terror when she heard the earth guardian's order, and a wave of confusion, fear, and helplessness crashed over her when she saw the three large dragons rapidly spreading out to trap Spyro in between them.

"No!" she shouted desperately, searching frantically for some way of ending the fight. "Don't hurt him!"

"Sirius, get them out of here!" Terrador ordered, ignoring the black dragoness's pleas.

"No!" Cynder cried again as the larger fire dragon tried to grab hold of her to carry her to safety. She quickly dodged away, slipping beyond his reach before turning to face the battle again. "Spyro, please, stop!"

He paid her no heed. His body was rigid in a fighting stance as he watched the three guardians circling around him, his face set in a snarl of pure fury and loathing. He didn't move, though, waiting for his three opponents to make the first move. Cynder could do nothing more but watch in horror, rooted to the spot by her fear, as the guardians went about calculating how to overpower the dragon she loved.

All as one, the guardians charged, converging on the much smaller dragon in an attempt to overwhelm him and pin him underneath their combined weight, though it was unclear what it was they intended to do afterwards. They never got the chance, however, for just before they reached him Spyro roared, slammed his forepaws against the ground and causing a wall of stone to shoot up all around him. The guardians were moving too fast to stop themselves, and with a terrible _thud_ they slammed headfirst into the barrier. Only Terrador was able to escape running straight into the wall, managing to move with a speed that contradicted his size and plant his left two paws against the surface, rebounding off of the wall and landing a few feet away, squaring himself to Spyro once again while Cyril and Volteer dazedly picked themselves up off the ground.

The wall of stone suddenly exploded outward, pelting the guardians with jagged shards of rock and causing them to curl in on themselves, seeking shelter behind their wings. Barely an instant later, before the debris had even cleared, a blazing beam of convexity shot straight up and struck the ceiling of the chamber with terrible force, tearing through the stone as if it were glass and opening up a large, jagged hole in the centre of the ceiling. In a blur of purple scales, Spyro leapt up out of the dust cloud that had previously obscured him from sight and, with a single flap of his wings, shot out through the hole and into the night sky above the city.

"We have to stop him!" Terrador exclaimed. "Volteer, alert the Guard! Cyril, with me!"

Then the three dragons were off, disappearing through the door to the assembly hall and making for the temple's front entrance amidst the scrambling of paws and talons against stone. Cynder, meanwhile, could only stare numbly up at the hole that Spyro had vanished through, filled with an unbearable confusion and anguish over what she had just witnessed. She couldn't believe that Spyro had actually just attacked the guardians, but the evidence was spread out before her, an inescapable truth that tore at her heart and filled her with pain.

"He really lost it," Sparx muttered in shock, looking around at the damage that Spyro had done to the chamber that had been pristine but moments before.

The horror in the dragonfly's voice was like a blow to Cynder, but almost immediately hearing Sparx giving up on his brother filled her with anger.

"No," she declared firmly, her expression settling into a determined snarl. "I'm not quitting on him yet."

"Cynder, wait!" Sirius exclaimed as she began storming toward the exit of the chamber. "You're not really going after him when he's like this, are you? You can't!"

"Just try and stop me!" Cynder snapped before turning away and taking off running for the temple's main exit, desperate to reach Spyro and break through to him before anything terrible happened. Sirius, Faren, and Hunter could only stare after her in stunned silence as she disappeared around the side of the doorway and down the corridor. Sparx, however, was far less content to stay behind, and with a loud groan he sped off into the hallway after Cynder.

"Hey, wait up!"

***.*.***

As soon as he emerged into the open air through the hole in the temple's roof, Nexus knew that he had drawn the attention of every dragon and mole within sight, for the rumbling explosion that had accompanied his convexity beam's impact was still echoing out across the city. At this late hour, though, there weren't very many citizens out in the streets aside from the handful of guards that patrolled the perimeter of the expansive temple courtyard and the streets beyond. The gazes of these guards were instantly fixed upon him when the crashing rumble reached their ears, and for a moment all they did was stare up at him in shock when they saw him hovering above the damaged temple, convexity swirling in the air around him.

Just for effect, Nexus threw back his head and unleashed a furious-sounding roar that echoed across the dark landscape. Below him, the guards grew much more wary and on edge, exactly as he had hoped they would.

A moment later he heard a commotion below him, and he quickly turned his gaze down toward the entrance of the temple where the three guardians had just appeared, looking up at him with a confused mixture of fear and pain etched into their expressions. Pretending to be enraged by the sight of them, Nexus twisted his features into a snarl of loathing before roaring again, louder than before. Then he beat his wings sharply and streaked down toward the streets to the north, streamlining his body and picking up speed until he could feel the wind tearing at the scales along his face and shoulders, screaming in his ears.

_Come on,_ he urged inwardly, glancing back toward the guardians out of the corner of his eye. _Take the bait..._

He hid a grim smirk of satisfaction when he heard Terrador call out, a deep commanding tone to his voice.

"Sound the alarm!" the earth dragon shouted at the top of his lungs, addressing the guards scattered about the temple's perimeter. "Don't allow him to escape into the city! We don't know what he'll do! Volteer, hurry and rally the Guard!"

The guards that Terrador had addressed stood frozen in place by shock for several moments, but the guardians leapt into action without delay. They all took to the air immediately, Volteer angling to the east and pounding his wings for the City Guard's main barracks complex to spread the warning. Terrador and Cyril, meanwhile, turned northward and beat their wings as hard as they could in an attempt to overtake the fleeing purple dragon, Cyril climbing high into the sky while Terrador angled to approach low over the ground in a more direct pursuit.

As the earth guardian raced toward him, his massive wings allowing him to pick up speed much more quickly than Nexus could, Nexus suddenly saw an opportunity. He slowed his pace marginally, allowing Terrador to gain on him more rapidly. Then, as the large dragon bore down on him, he suddenly spun around and unleashed several chains of electricity from his body into the air. In the darkness the bolts were nearly blinding, and Terrador uttered a grunt of surprise as his vision flashed white. Then the arcs of electricity connected, surging through the guardian's body and causing him to lose all control of his muscles. His wings twitched and went limp, and with a pained roar the large dragon crashed into the stony earth below, rolling and tumbling roughly along the street, passing a few nearby guards that watched with looks of horror painted across their expressions. Then the guards looked up at Nexus, hovering a few dozen metres farther down the street, and after a moment their stunned looks were replaced by angry snarls.

"After him!" one of them shouted.

The guards charged while Terrador slowly picked himself up off the ground, and Nexus wheeled about and beat his wings hard once to rocket himself forward before allowing himself to drop to the ground, falling into a running step in a flawless transition from flight. He didn't actually _need_ to run; he could have defeated these guards with little effort, but in this case he didn't have any true reason to spend time fighting them. As far as he was concerned, he had already succeeded in his plan. All that was left to do that night was put on a good show on his way out of the city.

Just at that moment, Nexus felt the instinctual need to look up. He wasn't a second too soon; his keen eyes barely caught a dim glint of reflected light from the moons in time for him to twist to the side and avoid a jagged block of ice that sped past with tremendous speed and impacted the street beside him with a loud shattering sound, sending chips of ice spraying in all directions. Barely slowing down, Nexus looked up to see Cyril banking sharply away, a frustrated scowl on his features at having missed his target. The ice guardian disappeared over the rooftops for a second, but quickly appeared overhead again as he tried to line up another attack. Nexus guessed that he was trying to slow him down, possibly stun or daze him, so that the guards behind him would be able to catch up and overpower him more easily. He snorted; like he could be beaten that easily.

Cyril flared his wings out and banked hard to line up on an intercept course with the young purple dragon, but at the same instant Nexus fired off an earth missile with incredible speed and pinpoint accuracy. The projectile impacted the guardian's left wing with enough force to dislocate the wing elbow joint with a loud _pop!_ sound that Nexus could hear even from that distance. Cyril's eyes went wide with shock and panic before he tumbled helplessly out of the sky, crashing into the face of a tall residence building on the left side of the street down which Nexus was still running. He collapsed limply to the ground, and didn't move again afterwards. Nexus passed his limp form by without so much as a glance, while the guards behind him faltered in their strides when they reached the fallen guardian, only to charge after Nexus with renewed determination and fury an instant later.

One of the guards, an earth dragon, fired a large earth missile that Nexus barely managed to duck, the projectile slamming into a building a ways farther down the street and sending dust and debris pouring down into the roadway. In response, Nexus twisted his head around and spat out a huge fireball that shot through the air like a blazing comet and impacted the ground right at the guards' feet. The explosions spanned the width of the roadway and sent the guards flying limply through the air. They collapsed in tangled heaps against the buildings lining the roadway and began dazedly trying to push themselves to their feet, numerous burns covering their scales and soot streaked across the front of their armour. Several small fires were now eating away at anything flammable in the street and on the faces of the buildings nearby, and clearly the sound of the explosion had woken many of the citizens in the area, for fearful and confused cries could be heard ringing out into the night. In all the confusion, Nexus darted into a side-street and disappeared, leaving the guards behind him with no way of knowing where he went.

As he ran, Nexus felt none of the usual thrill and excitement that usually coursed through him during a battle, something he attributed to the seriousness of the situation. This was what his entire plan had been building up to, but he felt no triumph or satisfaction now. Now, as he battled his way through the streets against the continuously mounting number of guards, he knew that every single dragon and mole he attacked was another blow dealt against Spyro. The armoured electricity dragon that stumbled into his path would believe it was Spyro that snapped his foreleg with a well-placed earth missile. The squad of four mole archers that tried to head him off would think from that moment on that it had been Spyro that Comet Dashed right through them, leaving them all with severe burns across their chests and faces. And when two dragon guards tried to jump Nexus from an alley on the right, which resulted in one of them getting an ice spike driven into their shoulder and the other getting dazed by a jolt of electricity before getting knocked out by a devastating tail blow to the side of the head, they would believe that Spyro was the culprit.

It was a necessity that Nexus had been aware of ever since his plan's inception, but it wasn't something that he was overly proud of. Typically, the knowledge that he was succeeding in deceiving so many dragons and moles with such little effort would have rendered him ecstatic and immeasurably proud of his cunning, but because the victim was Spyro it changed everything.

_We're supposed to be on the same side_, he thought grimly, almost unhappily.

What he was doing at that moment was no different than what he had already done in the mountain village, he knew, but this time it was so much more personal. This was Spyro's home, but after Nexus was finished it never would be again. Nexus was, at that very moment, tearing away everything that Spyro held dear, robbing it from a dragon that he had more in common with than Spyro could imagine, and that knowledge weighed heavily on Nexus's mind.

Still, it was the only way he could see to bring Spyro back to the Dark Realms where he belonged, and so he would not hesitate and he would not falter as he performed his task. Any guard that crossed his path was brushed aside without remorse, and while Nexus didn't set out to kill, he did nothing to spare them any pain either. He winced slightly as a fire dragon was smashed into the solid stone wall of a nearby mole house, driven by a fire bomb that had impacted in his chest, and Nexus could easily tell that his wing, several of his ribs, and one of his forelegs was broken by the impact. That dragon would surely be crippled for the rest of his life, but Nexus didn't miss a step as he passed his victim by, even as the red dragon weakly dragged himself along the ground to escape the hungry blaze that had been set alight in the building he had hit by Nexus's fire bomb. Nexus could hear moles screaming inside as the flames grew higher, but he didn't pause.

The fighting dragged on for what felt like hours, and with each new obstruction that presented itself before him Nexus grew more and more impatient. He was about halfway through the city by this point, and if his way had been clear he would have been able to reach the northern wall in only a matter of minutes, but as it was he was constantly forced to stop or slow as squads of guards of ever-increasing size appeared in front of him. With mounting irritation, he resorted to more and more ruthless methods to clear his path, using convexity with increasing regularity, though even then he strove to restrain himself from inflicting fatal harm. He needed as many residents alive as possible that hated Spyro for when the purple dragon eventually found some way to return.

Finally, after what felt like ages, but was actually more like a half hour since he began his rampage, the street ahead began to widen as it neared the large courtyard that sat just within the northern gate. Nexus picked up his pace, eager to just leave the city behind him and call his work for the night complete. By now he had left most of the guards behind him, and had only those on the wall left blocking his way. They would hardly present a problem; he could simply fly over their heads and disappear into the night. He didn't expect any further complications.

What he certainly didn't expect, however, was for a single dragon to jump out of an alley ahead of him and bar his path. The sound of flapping wings reached his ears a moment later, and Nexus glanced over his shoulder to see two more easily recognizable dragons descend from the sky and land several dozen metres farther down the street behind him, watching the pair before them anxiously.

With a scowl of irritation flashing across his features, Nexus slowly turned his head to glare at the dark-scaled figure that blocked his path, feeling that this dragoness was really becoming more trouble to deal with than she was worth. He clenched his talons against the stone street, dropping into a more aggressive stance, and he growled.

"Cynder."

***.*.***

"Cynder, wait!" came a frantic call from behind the black dragoness as she charged through the halls of the temple and into the front atrium, the large open main entranceway just ahead of her.

At the call, Cynder glanced back over her shoulder and saw that it was Faren that had made it, the red dragoness racing after her as fast as her legs would carry her but unable to gain any ground. Hunter was right behind her, Sirius slightly farther back, the larger dragon having trouble keeping pace with the light, loping gait of the dragonesses.

Cynder scowled, knowing that her friends were only trying to stop her, and she pushed her pace faster. Within moments she had darted through the temple's exit and in a single bound had leapt down the steps and into the courtyard, where she paused to get her bearings and take in her surroundings. The guardians were only just beginning to disperse, Volteer heading eastward while Terrador and Cyril took off to the north. When she looked after them, Cynder caught a brief flash of purple as Spyro dove down through the air and disappeared into the streets of Warfang. Without hesitating, Cynder prepared to give chase.

She was forced to abort her takeoff, however, when a large yellow wing suddenly appeared in front of her, and she stumbled and nearly fell as she tried to halt her leap halfway through it. When she had managed to catch her balance, she cast a heated glare to her left, where Sirius was standing.

"Cynder, just hold on for a second!" the older dragon urged her. "You need to think this through!"

"Think this through?" Cynder exclaimed. "What's there to think about? Spyro's making a huge mistake, and I need to stop him, before he does something that he's really going to regret! Now let me pass!"

She tried to skirt around to her right to get past the fire dragon's wing, but she gave a frustrated snarl when her path was barred again, by Faren this time.

"Cynder, please," the red dragoness begged. "What if he attacks you?"

"What?" Cynder gasped. "You don't seriously think he would do that, do you?"

"No one thought he would attack the guardians, but we all saw him do it just now," Sirius said grimly. "There's no way of telling what he's going to do if we go after him."

Cynder was about to make a protest, but a sudden sharp, crackling sound drew all their attention. Cynder craned her neck up to see past Sirius's wing, and she gave a startled gasp when she saw a number of bolts of electricity cut through the air straight at Terrador, the massive surge of power coursing along his body. Almost immediately he disappeared behind the lines of buildings as he fell from the sky, and a second later the muffled crash of a large body hitting the ground echoed across the city and over to them.

"_That_ had to have hurt!" Sparx exclaimed fearfully as he hovered just beside Cynder's head.

"Come on!" Cynder said as she leapt past Sirius before he could stop her and beat her wings furiously to reach the downed guardian.

She had reached the edge of the courtyard in only seconds. Then she easily flapped up over the low wall that separated the courtyard from the level of the city just below it and shot into the street down which Spyro and Terrador had disappeared. As soon as she reached the mouth of the street, however, she froze in shock at the sight. Much farther down the street, she just caught sight of two dragon guards sprinting around a bend in the street before they disappeared, and she presumed that they were chasing Spyro, but what caught her attention most in that moment was the sight of Terrador, lying in a heap against the side of the street and struggling to push himself back to his feet. Another dragon guard had already rushed over to his side and was trying to offer the guardian some support, but it appeared that the massive earth dragon was too dazed to actually get his feet under him. Cynder immediately ran over just as Sparx, Sirius, Faren and Hunter caught up with her.

"Terrador!" she called anxiously. "Are you alright?"

"I am unharmed," the guardian replied in a strained voice as he tried again to rise to a standing position. This time he succeeded in getting his forelegs securely underneath him, and with the help of the guard he was soon able to pick the remainder of his body up off the ground. "A bit shaken, but otherwise I'm fine."

"Was that Spyro that hit you?" Sirius asked tensely.

With a heavy sigh, Terrador nodded, and Cynder winced slightly with a confused feeling of dismay.

"What can he be trying to accomplish?" Hunter asked, his face set in a grim frown, and his ears twitched up as a low rumble reached their ears from a short ways farther to the north. "What has he to gain by turning on all of us?"

Terrador shook his head helplessly. "It seems he is in a very unstable state. It is impossible to guess what he is thinking or what he might do now. If he continues on this northward course, then perhaps he is trying to reach the edge of the city so he might escape."

"We have to stop him!" Cynder protested immediately. "We can't just let him leave! Not like this!"

Another rumble reached them, though this one was much louder and sounded more like an explosion. Cynder jolted from fear at the sudden noise and whipped her gaze over to the north, and she gasped when she saw a rolling cloud of smoke rising into the dark sky, lit from below by the red glow of flames.

"In this situation, we may be better off allowing him to escape," Terrador rumbled grimly. "If he is a threat to the city, then we may have no choice but to try and drive him out."

"Drive him out?" Cynder repeated in horror. "What are you saying? Chase him away like some enemy?"

"You're not actually going to _fight_ the guy, are you?" Sparx added anxiously. "What if you hurt him?"

"It cannot be helped," Terrador said reluctantly. "If the citizens are placed in danger by his actions, then we have no choice. Now, we should get moving. We will likely need the help of all of you to put an end to this."

Something about those words frightened Cynder to her very core, and she backed slowly away from the guardian as her fear threatened to overpower her.

"No," she said weakly, shaking her head. "No! I won't help you hurt Spyro!"

"Cynder!" Terrador called out in shock as she suddenly spread her wings and leapt into the air. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to stop him!" she shot back. Then she spun sharply in the air to the north, where the sounds of battle were still echoing across the city, and with a single beat of her wings she shot forward through the dark night sky, her black scales nearly invisible against the darkness.

"Cynder, wait!" Sirius exclaimed as he, Faren and Sparx took to the air to give chase, leaving Hunter behind with Terrador, watching in shock as the three dragons raced off into the night.

Cynder paid the fire dragon's call no heed, the only thing that mattered to her now being to find Spyro before the situation got too far out of hand. Surely she could make him see he what he was doing. Surely she could talk him down before it was too late. She didn't want to accept that Spyro had truly turned against all of them. There had to be some way to bring him back from this dark path he was embarking down. There _had_ to be!

But as she flew, drawing ever nearer to the point in the city where the unending sounds of conflict were coming from, she found it harder and harder to keep faith that Spyro wasn't lost to them. Down below in the streets, she could see the damage that the purple dragon had left in the wake of his rampage, both in the form of injured dragons and moles lying sprawled out against the cobblestones below and in the form of the structural damage done to countless buildings and homes by stray attacks. She could see no less than a half dozen buildings ablaze by this point, filling the sky with a dense cloud of acrid smoke. Moles and dragons in the streets were working frantically to try and rescue anyone that might be trapped inside. Meanwhile, the streets were steadily filling with panicked citizens woken by the sound of the conflict and trying to discover what the source of the disturbance was.

Now, as Cynder witnessed this scene of carnage, fear, and pain laid out in the city below her, she could almost feel her heart breaking. She and Spyro had fought so hard to overcome the darkness that had taken hold of the land and to bring some sense of security back to those who had spent as long as they could remember cowering under the shadow of the Dark Master's malice, and now Spyro was undoing all of it for reasons that she couldn't understand.

_Why, Spyro?_ she cried forlornly in her mind. _Why!_

Locating Spyro was actually far harder than Cynder would have thought. Though the sounds of fighting were always present and always provided a general direction for Cynder, and by extension Sirius, Faren and Sparx who were following after her, to follow to draw closer to her target, but the purple dragon seemed to be moving so quickly and so unpredictably as he fought his way through the ranks of guards that were steadily bearing down on his position that she found she often had to backtrack to keep up with him, and as a result she flew in a winding, confused path that made her pursuit far longer than it should have been. By that point Sparx and the two fire dragons had caught up with her, but it seemed as if they had given up trying to talk her out of going after Spyro; she had hardly even acknowledged their arguments so far during the flight, and it seemed painfully clear that she wasn't about to start. All they could do, then, was stay close and be ready to offer their assistance if the need arose.

At length, Cynder thought they were starting to close in. Up ahead, not too far away from the city's looming northern wall, she could see flashes of light as elemental attacks crisscrossed through the air in a chaotic pattern, the sounds of a clash audible even from their height, and it was then that Cynder finally caught sight of Spyro. He was engaged in the street with three dragon guards, each of a different element, and four moles armed with either short swords or bows—which they were using, to Cynder's horror, in apparently lethal fashion, the fight against Spyro seeming to have devolved into a struggle to bring the dragon down by any means necessary before he could do any further harm to the city. They were having no discernible success, however, as Spyro held them all back with ease. Then, as if he had grown tired of the battle, he let out a savage roar and unleashed a fury attack with his earth element, causing a tremendous wave to spread through the ground as if it were water. The wave shot outward with terrible speed and slammed into all of the guards before they could cover themselves, hurling them roughly back through the air and slamming them against various walls, whereupon they crumpled limply to the ground. Now freed from his aggressors, Spyro turned north and took off running down the street as fast as his legs could carry him.

Cynder realized at that moment that his path was taking him directly for the courtyard sheltered behind the city's main gate, and she realized with a surge of alarm that if he reached the courtyard, there would be no way to stop him from leaving the city—he would have far too much room to outmanoeuvre any obstacle. Her only chance of catching him, then, was to head him off before he got there.

Beating her wings furiously, Cynder shot ahead of her three companions and dove down toward a street that ran parallel to the main road Spyro was following, using her wind element to push her even faster through the air. She ignored the startled calls of Sirius, Faren and Sparx, focussing exclusively on reaching Spyro before he slipped away. She pulled up when she was barely a foot above the cobblestone street, then flared her wings wide to break her speed when an alley raced up on her left. In an impressive display of agility and flexibility, she twirled about in the air and launched herself down the alley with reckless speed, dropping to the ground as she entered and landing in a full-on sprint without missing a step. She ignored the way her lungs burned and her heart pounded from the exertion, her attention fixed on the far end of the alley, praying that she reached it before Spyro did.

A second later she had burst out from the alleyway and into the main street that led up to the gate, where she slid to a stop and spun to her left, panting. Just a few metres away from her, Spyro skidded to a surprised halt when he saw her appear ahead of him. Then he looked back to see Sirius and Faren land in the streets behind him, though they held back a considerable distance, appearing extremely wary of the purple dragon. Sparx was nowhere to be seen, though Cynder guessed that he was watching somewhere from behind the cover of the rooftops.

Seeing that he was surrounded, Spyro slowly turned his head to gaze forward at Cynder again, and the black dragoness faltered when she saw the anger blazing in his eyes.

"Cynder," he growled in a voice cold enough to send a tremor down her spine.

"Spyro, why are you doing this?" Cynder said pleadingly, pain and desperation rendering her voice tight and unsteady. "Just stop this, please."

"Get out of my way, Cynder," the purple dragon snarled threateningly, and Cynder felt a stab of hurt, but most of all fear in her chest when she heard the anger and hate in his voice.

"No! Spyro, please, this can't be what you want! I know you, and you would never want this! Please, stop this before it's too late to fix it!"

Spyro glanced about quickly as more guards suddenly arrived; eight of them, mostly moles, that filed out of side streets. They kept their distance, watching Spyro warily, but they stood ready to strike at any moment. Spyro's snarl deepened at the sight of them.

"The guardians have made their choice," he growled darkly. "If they can't give me what's rightfully mine, then I no longer have any choice."

"Spyro, this isn't the way!" Cynder pleaded desperately. "Don't do this!"

"I'm only going to ask this once, Cynder," he snapped, ignoring her pleas. "Come with me, or get out of my way!"

"Come with—" Cynder stammered in shock. "Spyro, no! You have to stop this! I'm not going to let you destroy everything you fought so hard for!"

For several seconds, everything became utterly still as Spyro simply glared at Cynder with eyes that burned with anger, hurt, betrayal and hatred, a scowl of bitter loathing on his features, as if he believed that he had been wronged by everyone around him and that he was a victim in this present situation, denied of something that belonged to him. Then, all at once, his expression darkened into a snarl of dark fury.

"Then you're no better than the rest of them," he said in a horribly quiet voice.

Cynder staggered back in absolute shock, and she didn't have a chance to utter even a single sound before, in a blur of purple scales, Spyro charged forward faster than she could blink.

There was a flash of purple, gold, and ivory, and an instant later Cynder felt the wind get knocked out of her as blazing pain erupted from her right flank and abdomen.

Time seemed to slow as, with a strangled gasp, Cynder's legs buckled and she began to collapse to the ground. As she fell, she saw Spyro by her side, his jaw grit in a snarl of bitter fury, the talons of his right forepaw coated in blood as he reared up into the air beside her, his body twisting away from the continued momentum of his strike.

Cynder gave a weak grunt as she slammed into the ground on her left side, clutching at the bleeding gash that began over the centre of her stomach and wrapped up and around her right flank almost to the base of her wing. Agony lanced up from the wound, filling her being and making it nearly impossible to move or breathe.

"Cynder!" Faren screeched in fear and horror, her voice sounding strangely muffled and distant as Cynder teetered on the edge of slipping into shock from the pain.

Cynder didn't make any move in response to the cry. Instead she could only lie there, frozen in place by utter disbelief, horror, and pain, watching as Spyro leapt up into the air and climbed sharply into the sky. Once he was hovering high over the heads of everyone in the street below, he spun about and fixed them all with a final, defiant glare.

"This isn't over!" he roared.

Then he whirled about and shot off like an arrow over the top of the wall, disappearing in barely a second and leaving the city paralyzed by confusion in his wake.

_This can't be real_, Cynder thought desperately as grief overcame her. _He can't be gone!_

But no matter the strength of her pleas and prayers, Spyro didn't reappear, and the scene of destruction in the city around her didn't vanish like the dream she so desperately hoped it was.

"Cynder!"

The frantic call jolted her back to the present, though only partially, and numbly she turned her head to see, though vision blurred by tears of pain and sorrow, Sirius and Faren standing over her, as well as Sparx hovering directly above her, the source of the cry. They were gazing down in absolute horror at the gash in her side that was bleeding freely out onto the stone street beneath her.

"Help me get her onto my back!" Sirius commanded immediately. "We have to get her to the infirmary right away!"

Faren circled around behind her while Sirius turned about and positioned himself in front of her with his left flank facing her. Then Cynder uttered a sharp moan that echoed hauntingly over the rooftops as Faren started to lift, snapping her eyes shut and gritting her fangs tightly against the wave of pure agony that shot up from her flank and abdomen. Her wounded side stretched and twisted as the fire dragons tried to get her positioned on Sirius's back, sending fresh, searing-hot waves of agony lancing through her entire body, and she could barely keep from screaming as tears of pain poured from her eyes. Finally she was settled in a relatively stable position, and without delay Sirius leapt into the sky and flew as fast as his wings would carry him toward the city's infirmary, just to the west of the temple grounds, Faren and Sparx following right on his tail.

"Hang on, Cynder," Sirius grunted between frantic flaps of his wings. "You'll be fine. Just hang on!"

Cynder made no reply; she had not the heart or the will to utter even a single sound. All she could do was stare at the north wall that was growing more distant with every second that passed, her grief threatening to smother her under its weight. No matter how excruciating the pain in her side was, it couldn't compare to the pain she felt inside of her now that Spyro was gone, leaving her broken, bleeding, and drained of all hope.

_How could he do this?_ she thought in despair. _How could he do this to his home? To his friends?_

_To me?_

As Sirius began his rapid descent toward the infirmary, Cynder was left to wonder, her world fading and blurring as the pain from her wound became too much for her to possibly bear. Without any answers, without hope, and without the one dragon she needed most in that moment there to comfort her, she slipped helplessly into darkness, misery, and despair...


	24. Chapter 23

**Alright, another chapter ready to go. I put a lot into this one, so I hope everyone enjoys it.**

**Time to check back in with Spyro and Flash, I think. Let's see how our wayward hero is getting on...**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 23:<span>_

_He wasn't sure if it was a dream. Nothing but darkness surrounded him on all sides, an empty void without light or any indicators of where he was or what he was doing there. But while there was nothing for Spyro to see, there was plenty for him to hear._

_Screams of pain and terror echoed out of the void, encircling him with their haunting melody, interspersed by the deep rumble and clash of some unseen combat. He could hear confused, jumbled voices shouting indistinct orders to each other, some of them sounding like the voices of dragons, others possibly moles. Once or twice, he thought he recognized a shout from one of the guardians, but he couldn't be sure._

_It was a chilling thing to hear, beyond a doubt, but it paled to insignificance in comparison to a much more frantic cry that rang out above all else. It was a voice that Spyro could recognize in an instant; Cynder. However, while hearing her would normally have been a comfort, the note of panic and grief in her tone only served to alarm him further._

"_Spyro, why are you doing this?"_ _her disembodied voice demanded desperately_. _"Please, don't do this! Spyro, no! NO!"_

Spyro gave a panicked cry and jolted upright in a flash as Cynder's anguished scream rang painfully in his ears and his mind, filling him with terror and confusion. As soon as he had risen off the ground, however, he gave another sharp groan as pain exploded through his skull, feeling like his head was being squeezed in a vice, and he collapsed heavily to the earth once more. He clamped his eyes shut and moaned through gritted fangs, clutching at his forehead with his paws and trying to fight back against the pain and the pressure at the base of his skull. The torturous sensation brought with it an inexplicable sense of dread, as if something terrible had just occurred somewhere that Spyro didn't know about.

"What? What is it?" came Coronus's startled exclamation an instant later, and it sounded as if the young white dragon had been jolted awake by Spyro's cry and had leapt to his feet. "Spyro, what's wrong?"

The other dragon's voice somehow managed to punch through the pain that had ensnared Spyro's mind, and almost immediately he could feel the horrifying sensation fading, as if its hold on him had been weakened by Coronus's words. Gradually it slipped away into nothingness, leaving Spyro panting for air and trembling weakly from fear and confusion.

_That's the second time that's happened_, he thought anxiously. _What could it mean? What is this that I keep feeling?_

It took him almost a minute to get his breathing and heart rate back under control, and only once this had been accomplished did he begin looking around at his environment. It was dark, but by the way the sky to the west glowed faintly, Spyro guessed that it was no more than an hour since the sun had gone down. The sheltered clearing in which he and Coronus had spent the previous day looked exactly as it had before he had gone to sleep, with no signs anywhere that anyone, or anything, had stumbled across their location while they were both resting. For this, Spyro was relieved, but he was still too unsettled by his dream and the pain in his mind to truly feel comforted.

Something inside of him told him that these strange attacks he was having had to mean something, but what that meaning might be, he hadn't the slightest clue. The same with the dreams, too. They all seemed to be different, in different locations and with different people in them, though there were some commonalities between them, such as the two where he had seen himself, and the ones where he had heard that deep, terrifying voice. For a reason he couldn't comprehend, though, the one he had just experienced filled him with the greatest sense of dread out of them all. Whatever had happened to Cynder in the dream to make her scream like that, it couldn't have been good.

But what did they mean?

The sudden sound of rustling in the thick grass caused Spyro to start and whirl around to face the source, fearing that some foe had managed to sneak up behind him and was about to attack, but when he turned he found that it was only Coronus, sitting down in the grass as he fixed Spyro with a scrutinizing, slightly unsettled gaze. Lost in his own thoughts, Spyro had almost forgotten about the presence of the white dragon, and when he realized that there was no threat he slowly relaxed.

"What was that?" Coronus asked slowly after a long pause in which not a sound was uttered.

Spyro sighed and glanced away, feeling uncertain about sharing his thoughts with this dragon that he knew still didn't fully trust him. At length, he replied, "A dream."

"No," Coronus said in a serious tone, shaking his head. "After."

Spyro sighed again, more heavily this time, and he allowed his gaze to drop to the ground before his paws as he kneaded the soil anxiously with his talons.

"I don't know," he relented finally. "It's just this strange feeling I've gotten in my head a couple of times, though it's only been this intense once before. Whenever it happens, I just get this really bad feeling."

Coronus's brow furrowed slightly as he considered Spyro's words, a wary look in his eyes. It wasn't so much suspicion that was contained in his expression any more. Rather, it was something more like uncertainty.

_Maybe he thinks I'm crazy_, Spyro thought grimly.

Eventually, though, some of the wariness in the white dragon's eyes faded away, and he shifted to face Spyro better with what could almost be taken to be concern when he noticed Spyro's troubled mood.

Spyro was mildly surprised by this change in his demeanour, but he had to admit that it helped to lift his spirits, if only a little, to know that the white dragon was at least a little worried about his condition. It had been two days since the two dragons had begun their search north of the village for Coronus's missing brother, Claymore, and during that time Spyro had noticed, with a sense of relief, that the white dragon seemed to become less and less distrusting of Spyro in that time. It was an extremely slow process, of course, but the longer Coronus had spent in the purple dragon's company, the more he seemed to realize that the sympathy and concern that Spyro was giving him wasn't just an act. Though Spyro didn't know why, Coronus seemed to be very adept at picking out the truth in someone's words. On the couple of times that Spyro had tried to comfort the depressed young dragon by telling him he was sure his brother would be alright, Coronus had replied bluntly with, "You don't even know if _you_ believe that, so why should I?" However, when Spyro tried to show him genuine sympathy and companionship, Coronus seemed much more accepting of it.

_How does someone so young develop that kind of insight?_ Spyro wondered.

He would have to ask him sometime.

He looked back up at the younger dragon again, studying his features as he gazed distantly off into the woods surrounding them, a forlorn expression hidden behind the mask of indifference he was attempting to keep up. Spyro gave a quiet, sad sigh. He knew that these last couple of days had been rough on Coronus. They had been following the faint tracks that Spyro had first noticed for most of the first night, but eventually they had reached an area of much heavier traffic, and the sheer number of fresher tracks had made following the original trail impossible. Their only choice at that point had seemed to be to continue following the rest of the tracks, which were surely from grublins, and try and determine what the dark creatures were doing in the area and hopefully locate Claymore that way. They were having no success, however, and Spyro could tell that his young companion was rapidly losing hope, no matter how hard he tried not to.

When Coronus gave a low, strained sigh, still staring off at nothing with a look of deep sadness in his eyes, Spyro decided to try again at reassuring him, even if his last attempts hadn't had much success. However, this time he decided on a slightly different tactic.

"Have you given up on him?" he asked.

Coronus jerked up in surprise and turned to meet Spyro's gaze, looking somewhat stunned by the purple dragon's words.

"What?"

"Have you given up on your brother?" Spyro repeated, fixing the other dragon with a level stare the whole while.

All at once Coronus's eyes narrowed into an angry glare, and he snapped, "No, I have not given up on my brother! Nothing will make me stop looking for him, no matter what anyone says."

Spyro allowed a small smile to form on his muzzle when he saw the increased energy in the white dragon's bearing.

"Good."

Again Coronus looked surprised, and he narrowed his eyes again, except this time it was out of confusion.

"Listen, Coronus," Spyro began, "I understand that you're going through a really hard time. I don't know firsthand what it feels like, not knowing where your brother is or what's happened to him, or if he's even alive, but my brother has gone through the same thing with me once, so I do know what you're dealing with."

Coronus studied him closely for a moment, apparently caught by surprise by Spyro's revelation about his brother, and it looked as if he was debating whether or not to truly believe him.

"And?" he said after a pause.

"And I just don't want you to let your worry eat at you too much," Spyro told him gently. "I promised you before, and I'll say it again, I _will_ help you find him. No matter what we find at the end, I'm not going to stop until you have the answer you're looking for, and I hope you don't either."

Coronus gave a faint grunt and turned his gaze away again, his expression unreadable, though there was an air of tension about his body. Spyro began to worry that his words had once again had no effect on the younger dragon, and he was just about to breathe a disappointed sigh and turn away when Coronus suddenly spoke up.

"Why are you helping me?"

His voice was so quiet that Spyro almost didn't hear it, and it sounded far more uncertain than it ever had to Spyro before. The confusion and uncertainty he was feeling was plain to see.

"What do you mean?" Spyro asked, slightly puzzled by the white dragon's question.

"Why do you care about me or my brother?" Coronus asked, with more of an insistent tone in his voice this time. "Why would you agree to help me instead of just trying to leave? If you really want to go back to Warfang, you've had plenty of chances. You're strong enough now that if you tried to leave, I wouldn't be able to stop you. Whether you're telling the truth and just want to go home, or you're lying and the grublin army really is yours, either way you could beat me easily now." He gazed straight into Spyro's eyes, a longing for answers in his pale blue eye. "Why haven't you?"

"Because I made a promise," Spyro replied hesitantly, unsure how to respond in the face of the other dragon's remarks. "Because I can see how much your brother means to you, and so I can't just abandon you now without any way to find him." He gave a tense sigh, looking down at his paws, struggling with how to put his next feeling into words. "And because, I need help too."

"You?" Coronus repeated, puzzled. "But you're the purple dragon. What could you need help with?"

Spyro snorted bitterly. "Being a purple dragon doesn't help much when no one believes what you tell them. You're the first dragon that hasn't tried to kill or capture me since I came to this village..." He trailed off, his brow creasing in contemplation. "How long has it been?"

Coronus didn't answer for a few seconds, but finally he said, "The attack was three weeks ago." He paused for another moment. "And you were captured two days after that."

Spyro snapped his gaze back up toward Coronus in shock, a feeling of mild panic growing within him. "I was in that prison for almost three weeks?"

_I've been away from Warfang for that long?_ he thought anxiously. _What's happened while I was gone? What might everyone be thinking?_

He took a couple of long, deep breaths to settle his nerves, realizing that losing his head now wasn't going to do any good. Once he had collected himself, he glanced back up at his companion.

"Anyway, like I was saying, in all that time you're the only one that was willing to listen to me at all. No one else would listen, but you helped me, and you gave me a chance to prove that I was telling the truth. And if I can make you believe me, then maybe I'll be able to clear my name with the rest of the village and find out why they think it was me that attacked them."

He noticed then that, at those last words, Coronus's expression clouded, and he averted his gaze when Spyro looked at him more closely in puzzlement. He quickly realized the reason behind this action, though, and it caused a brief stab of pain within him.

"You still think it was me."

Coronus sighed heavily, closing his eyes wearily and allowing his head to droop slightly toward the ground.

"I don't know anymore," he admitted at length without opening his eyes. "I mean, if it was you, then why would you still be here? You could have gone back to your army as soon as you started to get your strength back. But if it wasn't you, then who did I see that night?"

"You're absolutely sure that the dragon you saw was me?" Spyro asked hesitantly.

Coronus nodded grimly, staring Spyro right in the eyes. "If it wasn't you, then it was your twin. I saw a purple dragon that looked just like you do sitting in front of me now." Then he paused, before he lifted a paw and added as an afterthought, "Minus the...bandages."

Despite the situation he found himself in, Spyro couldn't keep from grinning just slightly at the white dragon's last remark. He sobered immediately, however, feeling deeply troubled by what Coronus had just told him.

"How can that be possible?" he asked in an undertone, to no one in particular.

"So you do believe me?" Coronus inquired.

Spyro nodded without hesitation. "I do, but that doesn't mean it makes any more sense to me."

"So you still say that you were in Warfang that night."

Spyro looked up to meet his questioning gaze, and for the first time he grew just a touch defensive.

"I don't say that I was in Warfang. I _was_ in Warfang, and there are plenty of people that saw me there."

Coronus backed off slightly when he detected the hard edge growing in the purple dragon's tone, and when he saw this Spyro suddenly felt guilty for snapping at a dragon who was only trying to understand everything that was happening around him, just like he was. Just then, though, Coronus surprised him by speaking again, and when he looked up Spyro found him studying the scratches and scars that he had received from his time in the prison cell, and during his escape.

"I don't believe anyone would go through what you did just for an act," he said quietly.

Spyro looked at him in surprise, but he could feel relief forming within him when the white dragon's words began to sink in. For the first time since his ordeal in the prison, he felt a glimmer of hope.

"So, you believe me?" he asked tentatively.

Coronus hesitated, fixing Spyro with a hard look. Finally, though, he sighed again and relaxed, if only slightly.

"I don't not believe you," he relented.

In any other situation, Spyro would have been tempted to remark that what they had both just said should have meant the same thing. As it was, however, he knew that there was still a difference, one that he would have to overcome. Still, it was certainly a positive step.

"Thank you, Coronus," he said with a small smile.

Coronus gazed back at him uncertainly for a moment before turning his head away slightly again, looking out into the forest.

"Call me Flash," he grunted.

Spyro was caught by surprise by the unexpected request, but almost immediately his expression was replaced by another, larger smile. Coronus—no, Flash, Spyro corrected himself—seemed to notice, and he shot the purple dragon a suspicious glance before letting out a low huff and turning his gaze away again, almost as if he was embarrassed and didn't want to show it. Spyro, however, didn't mind the response. Flash had just shown him the faith to share his nickname with him, after all, and Spyro wasn't about to undervalue that. It was progress, and it helped raise his spirits in this otherwise depressing situation.

Flash looked up with a curious frown when Spyro suddenly chuckled quietly.

"What?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing really," Spyro replied quickly. "Just coincidence. My father's name is Flash."

Flash blinked a couple of times in surprise. "Really?"

Spyro nodded.

Flash gave a quiet grunt before offering, "Electricity dragon?"

"No," Spyro replied with another chuckle. "Dragonfly, actually."

"Dragonfly?" Flash repeated dubiously. "Seriously?"

Spyro merely shrugged. "I never said I was adopted by dragons."

"Well, yeah, but—"

A sudden rustling sound caused Flash to cut himself short, and both he and Spyro whipped their gazes around to the west where the sound had come from. Barely a second later it came again, louder, then once more but from a position a few feet over to the right. Then Spyro thought he heard a new sound over the rustling; an eerie, strange sort of chattering sound that he recognized all too well.

"Move!" he hissed to Flash, though it was hardly necessary seeing as the white dragon was already on his feet.

Together the two dragons dashed for the southern edge of the small clearing, taking extreme care to make their steps as silent as possible. When they reached the edge of the clearing they hastily scurried around a tangle of low branches and bushes, seeking shelter within the miniature thicket and straining to see past the leaves out into the clearing they had just deserted. They weren't a second too soon; barely an instant after they had both disappeared from sight, three grublins emerged into the clearing from the west, carrying their standard long blades in their gnarled fingers and chattering rapidly to each other. They stopped just beyond the line of trees and gazed out around them curiously, as if searching for something.

_They must have heard us talking!_ Spyro realized with a twinge of fear.

He noticed Flash glance anxiously toward him, and Spyro tried to return the look with a reassuring one, but he wasn't sure if he succeeded. Just then they heard the sound of rustling grass and looked back to see the grublins beginning to fan out in the clearing, their beady red eyes darting back and forth as they searched intently for any sign of the dragons. Spyro practically held his breath as one of the grublins gradually inched closer to their position, though its gaze was mostly focussed downward and it was clear it hadn't noticed them yet. Silently, he began tensing in anticipation for a battle, though he desperately hoped that they could avoid fighting since the noise would be easy to hear for a great distance all around, and they had no idea how many more grublins were in the area.

Suddenly the grublin closest to the centre of the clearing let out an excited squealing sound, and the other two grublins instantly turned their gazes toward it eagerly. The grublin that had called then pointed toward the ground with its weapon, chattering excitedly, and Spyro realized that it was pointing at the depression in the grass where he had been sleeping.

_Just don't come this way_, he pleaded silently.

A loud _SNAP_ suddenly rang out through the darkened clearing, and Spyro immediately went rigid as a surge of fear shot through him. Slowly he turned his gaze to his right, where he saw Flash standing with a look of wide-eyed horror painted across his expression, looking down at his right forepaw that he had just shifted and set down on top of a dried stick. Then he looked up at Spyro, his eyes containing a mix of guilt and panic.

The three grublins spun around toward the source of the sudden noise, a look of deep suspicion on all their faces, and slowly they began stalking toward the bushes, their gazes sweeping back and forward as they searched for the cause of the disturbance. Nearer and nearer they came, showing no sign as of yet that they had noticed the two hiding dragons, but Spyro didn't trust their luck enough to think that they would go completely unnoticed. Without a sound he inched over to his right and forward, moving into a position that would better allow him to protect his younger companion if a battle broke out. If Flash was surprised by this action on his part, it didn't show past his fear. The grublins were now only a few metres away, still drawing closer, and the tension in Spyro's body had become so great that he felt like the slightest contact might cause him to snap into pieces. His expression was one of grim determination, however, and he began drawing on his elemental powers, selecting electricity as the most likely to incapacitate their foes before they had a chance to react.

At that moment the grublins reached the edge of the clearing, and with a single sharp motion the closest of the dark creatures shot its hand forward and pulled the leafy covering of the bushes aside, gazing down straight at the hiding place of the two dragons. Spyro cracked his jaws open wide at the same moment, but mere instants before he unleashed a torrent of electricity that the grublins would have absolutely no chance of surviving, he faltered when he felt Flash grasp him on the shoulder with a forepaw. Startled and thoroughly confused, he shot an inquisitive look at the other dragon, only to feel his puzzled frown deepen when the white dragon shook his head insistently.

'_Don't make a sound,'_ he mouthed.

Spyro narrowed his eyes suspiciously before turning his gaze back toward the grublins. The three creatures had gathered together in front of the bush, all of them peering through the opening the leader had pulled away, but Spyro was surprised to see looks of utter bewilderment on the grublins' twisted faces, though they were practically staring right at him. For a long moment he just stood there, frozen, not even daring to breathe, but then he experimentally shifted his head slowly to his left, taking painstaking care not to make the slightest sound as he moved.

The grublins' eyes didn't follow him.

Suddenly he understood, and he shot another surprised look at Flash, who merely gave a single nod before looking back toward the grublins, the tension in his body unmistakeable. Spyro realized that Flash must be using the same ability he had used on the night he had first encountered him, somehow rendering them both invisible to the grublins even though they could see each other perfectly fine.

_That's an amazing skill_, Spyro thought with a new feeling of respect. _I wonder how he does it._

His attention was grabbed by the grublins again when, at that moment, one of them turned its head toward its companions and made a brief, puzzled sound. Another gave a small shrug. Then, to Spyro's immeasurable relief, they began to turn away, leaving the bush behind them and heading back in the direction from which they'd appeared. Spyro winced as one of the bush's thin branches smacked across his muzzle but restrained himself from uttering even a muffled gasp. As still as statues, he and Flash waited until the grublins had passed into the trees on the far side of the clearing before relaxing. Only then did Spyro realize how long he had been holding his breath, and he let it out all at once in a strained gasp before greedily filling his lungs with fresh oxygen. Then, once his breathing had settled, he and Flash pushed through the bushes and emerged in the clearing once again. Spyro frowned in irritation when the bandage over his left flank caught on the tangled branches, however, and with an impatient snort he hooked a talon under one of the vine straps and pulled, causing the bandage to drop to the ground. He was pleased to find that the stab wound on his flank was no longer bleeding, though it was nowhere near fully healed. Then, after he had rid himself of the remaining bandage on his right forepaw, he joined Flash out in the clearing.

"How did you know that would work?" Spyro asked, turning to face Flash curiously when he had once again reached his side.

Flash merely shrugged. "It did last time."

Spyro held his gaze on the younger dragon for a moment longer before letting out a thoughtful grunt and turning to look to the west once more, where the grublins had disappeared. His eyes narrowed into a slight glare as he debated their next move, having an idea what he wanted to do but knowing the risks involved.

"I think we should follow them," he said finally, not shifting his gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Flash look at him curiously.

"You think that they have my brother?" he asked.

"I don't know," Spyro replied honestly. "There's a chance. Maybe not much of one, but it's better than our chances of finding him the way we've been going."

Flash hesitated, clearly anxious about trailing the creatures that had assaulted his home, but almost immediately his expression hardened into one of determination.

"Alright," he said. "Let's go."

Spyro nodded. "Stay close to me."

Without another word, the two dragons hastened silently over to the western edge of the clearing and ventured stealthily into the shadowy darkness beneath the thin canopy. The grublins were already out of sight thanks to the lack of light and the various underbrush that obscured their vision, but thanks to his earth power Spyro could still sense their position ahead of them, and after only a couple of minutes of silent stalking through the forest the three grublins eventually came into sight ahead. They dared not venture any closer after that, and with extreme care they began trailing the three oblivious creatures, like a pair of expert predators pursuing unsuspecting prey, save that they were much more wary of their quarrels than a hunter otherwise would be.

The whole while Flash stayed right be Spyro's side, never venturing further than a couple of feet away from him at any time, and Spyro could easily detect the nervousness about his bearing. He also noticed Flash periodically glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, an air of mild distrust about the motions, and Spyro felt it was a safe guess that the white dragon was entertaining the idea that Spyro was leading him into a trap. However, he never made any indication of challenging Spyro's leadership in this situation, and aside from the infrequent glances he seemed willing enough to trust the purple dragon for the time being. For this he was grateful, but he tried not to allow these thoughts to distract him from the present task.

Some time after they began pursuing the grublins through the woods, Spyro saw the three small creatures step out onto a sort of path that had been worn into the forest floor, and as soon as they had they picked up their pace slightly now that their path was unobstructed by underbrush of any kind. He suppressed a growl of irritation, since the added speed would make it far more difficult for him and Flash to follow them without risking being discovered, but they had come too far to break off the pursuit now, and it was all too clear that Flash wasn't willing to give up the chase until they found where the grublins were heading. So, staying off the path so that they could stay behind cover, the two dragons began weaving between the trees and bushes with renewed haste, determined not to let the grublins slip away from them.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Spyro detected the first signs that they were nearing their destination. It was just a feeling at first, a strange sense that something was coming. Shortly afterward, he began to make out something distinct with his earth power. Far ahead, still out of sight through the trees, he felt a change in the ground, as if it had become compacted by the feet of many creatures over a period of time. Only a minute later he began being able to pick out movement.

"I think we're coming up on a camp of some sort," he hissed under his breath to Flash.

The white dragon's only acknowledgment was a quick glance toward his companion before he turned his gaze toward the grublins again, his expression taking on a firmer air.

After a few more minutes, Spyro's prediction was proven correct when the faint, eerie sound of grublin voices could be heard echoing hauntingly through the trees toward them from ahead. Spyro couldn't tell how many of them there were, but it didn't sound like a terribly large host. At the same time, though, it was more than just a few, and he knew better than to take their numbers lightly. He may have had a fair amount of experience fighting grublins en masse already, but he wasn't about to let his guard down.

Just then he thought he saw a faint, flickering light ahead, and after shooting a meaningful glance toward Flash he slowed his pace and turned away from the path, seeking better cover in the denser parts of the woods. After another few minutes of creeping silently through the trees, their destination came into view ahead.

Spyro paused for a moment in grim silence as he examined the scene before them from where he lay crouched behind a small rise in the terrain, suppressing the swell of trepidation that rose within him when his eyes fell on the grublin camp. It was a very simple set-up, with only a couple of ragged fabric tarps strung up between trees serving as shelter for the dark soldiers from the elements. A couple of fires were burning faintly beneath the trees, the canopy serving to hide their glow from any outside observers and dispersing the thin tendrils of pale smoke so that they wouldn't be seen from afar. Around these fires and beneath the tarps, as well as generally milling about the camp, were dozens of grublins, almost all of which being of the smaller land-bound and airborne varieties and with only a couple of the larger, more powerful variants in sight. Spyro was at least relieved to see none of the massive, troll-like grublin leaders anywhere within the camp—his dealings with them in the past were events that he would rather not have to repeat. He felt confident that he could defeat one if he did find himself in such a situation, but he would rather avoid it if at all possible. However, there were still enough of the smaller ones that they could still overwhelm them if he and Flash weren't careful.

"Is this it?" Flash whispered in mild surprise. "There were a lot more than this when they attacked the village."

"I expect there are a lot more camps than just this one scattered around," Spyro replied grimly. "Either that, or the rest have moved on somewhere else."

"I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not," Flash muttered.

Spyro grunted and nodded in agreement. Just then his eyes settled on a larger set of tarps that had been set up farther toward the western edge of the camp, barely visible through the trees. Unlike the rest, which were left open on most sides, these tarps were arranged to form a sort of enclosed hut. Though Spyro wasn't sure why, this seemed important.

"Come on," he whispered, nodding his head toward the hut, and without any further explanation he slipped away into the trees once more, Flash trailing along curiously after him.

They moved slowly to make certain that they weren't spotted by any of the various grublins around the edges of the camp, but even so it only took them a couple of minutes to circle around the camp toward the west, Flash concealing them both from sight as they darted across the open pathway. Then, once they were beyond the western edge of the camp, they turned back and began silently creeping toward the hut that lay just ahead of them through the trees. There seemed to be relatively few grublins around this hut, and Spyro began to wonder if maybe this was a sort of tent for their leader.

_Who could it be?_ he wondered. _Is it a dragon? Or is it a manifestation of some kind of dark power, made to look like me?_

When they were just over a dozen metres away from the hut and the edge of the camp, Spyro and Flash stopped their advance and huddled close together under the cover of some low-handing tree branches. Then, while still keeping alert for any signs of trouble, Spyro began extending his perceptions through the earth and soil beneath his paws and toward the hut. At first the sensations were indistinct, but quickly they resolved into two presences. One of them felt small, about the right size for a standard grublin, while the other was considerably larger. No matter how hard he focussed, though, he could make out nothing more of this presence other than an indistinct mass resting against the ground, scarcely moving.

"What do you feel?" Flash asked in a hushed voice after another moment had passed in silence.

Spyro opened his mouth to answer, but just then the sound of pieces of rough fabric brushing against each other interrupted him, and Spyro immediately crouched lower to the ground as the grublin he had sensed appeared from within the hut, its back to them. It just stood there for a moment, glancing back toward the hut with an expression that was impossible for Spyro to read. Then, with a couple of strange, guttural chirps, the grublin shifted and set the sword it had been holding down against the ground, leaning against one of the tarps that formed a wall of the hut. Spyro felt his eyes widen slightly and surprise shoot through him when he saw fresh blood upon the blade.

Dragon blood.

Flash let out a weak gasp when he saw the same thing as Spyro, and he turned a wide-eyed gaze on the purple dragon. By his expression, Spyro knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Come on," he whispered, and after Flash used his power to turn them invisible again he began cautiously creeping toward the back of the hut. He kept his senses strained for any sign that their approach had been noticed, but soon enough they were standing right beside the hut with no indication that they had been spotted. After glancing quickly around to make sure no grublins were watching Spyro bent down and hooked his talons under the back fold of the tarps, lifting the fabric high enough for Flash to slip through, which he promptly did. Spyro followed right behind him. As soon as they were inside, he heard Flash utter a weak gasp.

"Claymore!" he whispered hoarsely.

Spyro turned quickly around and faltered immediately when he saw what was before him, a feeling of horror spreading throughout his being with its cold touch.

A young earth dragon, who looked to be about two years older than Spyro was and looked as if, when standing, he would have been a head taller than the purple dragon, was sprawled limply out on his side on the left side of the hut, his neck and forepaws fastened with rough, thick strips of fabric to a frame of gnarled wood that had been hastily thrown together for the sole purpose of holding the grublins' prisoner. Though these were the only bonds that held him, they were arranged such that his body was twisted at a greatly uncomfortable angle as he hung weakly from the straps.

Spyro felt a wave of weakness and nausea sweep over him when he beheld Claymore's condition. Deep cuts and scratches covered every inch of his body, with thin tails of dried, crusted blood running down his scales from every one of them, except for those that had been freshly opened and still seeped fresh blood out onto his hide. Bruises also covered a large portion of his body, covering his otherwise green form with dark purple and black blotches that looked like they must have ached unbearably. Worst of all, one of his wings had been torn practically to shreds by grublin blades and hung limply at an odd angle from his body.

"Claymore!" Flash gasped again in a quavering voice, and in an instant he had rushed over to his older brother's side and had reared up, resting his forepaws on the larger dragon's shoulder and shaking him insistently. "Claymore! Wake up!"

For a moment it looked as though the earth dragon wasn't going to respond, and Spyro was just beginning to fear the worst when, suddenly, Claymore twitched and began to stir, uttering a feeble groan and cracking his eyes open with a great deal of difficulty—or one of them, at least, for the other bore a large gash over it and remained tightly shut.

"Wh...what?" he croaked in a voice that was scarcely loud enough to hear.

"Claymore, it's me," Flash said, tears beginning to form in his blue eyes.

"F...Flash?" Claymore uttered weakly, trying to force his eye to focus on the dragon standing before him. "How...What are you...doing here?"

"I'm came to get you out of here," Flash replied, trying to sound reassuring despite the grief-filled tears that were now slipping down his cheeks, and Spyro couldn't begin to imagine how hard it must be for him to see his brother in such a state. "Everything's going to be alright. I'm here for you."

"But...how...?" Claymore groaned, sounding as if forming even just a couple of words was an enormous struggle. He pulled weakly on his restraints, trying to shift into a less painful position, and it was at that moment that he finally caught sight of Spyro standing behind his brother. Almost immediately a look of panic came over his battered expression, and he began trying to pull away from him, though he didn't have the strength to do more than just shuffle his rear paws uselessly.

"It's okay," Flash said hurriedly when he noticed his brother's alarm. "He helped me find you."

Claymore didn't look at all convinced, and he kept his one open eye fixed anxiously and suspiciously on Spyro. Feeling unsettled by the wounded dragon's stare, Spyro moved over until he was standing just inside the entrance to the hut, pulling the flap back slightly with a single talon to peer outside.

"We need to get out of here," he whispered tensely when he saw grublins just beyond the hut, wandering about the camp. None of them were moving toward the hut, but they were still much too close for Spyro's comfort.

"Can you walk?" Flash asked his brother, though by the tone of his voice it sounded as though he already knew the answer.

Claymore grunted and shook his head as best he could with his neck secured to the wooden frame. "S-Sorry."

"It's okay," Flash said quickly, trying to reassure his brother. "We'll get you out of here and fixed up. Just hold on, okay?"

Spyro looked back over his shoulder as the young white dragon began tugging on the thick bonds that held his brother captive. It took him a few moments of struggling, but eventually he managed to get his brother's neck freed. Immediately Claymore's head fell so that it hung weakly over his foreleg, and it caused a twinge of pain within Spyro's heart to see that he didn't even have the strength to hold his own head up. However the earth dragon looked greatly relieved to have the rough, harsh fabric off his scales, and Spyro could easily see the way that the scales around his neck were raw and chafed from being rubbed against the fabric for so long. Then he turned his head back to resume keeping watch while Flash worked, but as soon as he did he let out a startled gasp that immediately caught Flash's attention.

A grublin stood just beyond the entrance of the hut, holding the fabric flap back with one hand, somehow having managed to approach without Spyro hearing it. Now it just stood there, staring up at Spyro with a stunned, bewildered expression on its dark face, and Spyro could bring himself to do nothing more than stare back at it, too startled to think of a way to respond. Utter silence fell within the hut as the two continued to just stare at each other, not moving in the slightest as they grappled with their own surprise.

The grublin slowly turned its head to look past Spyro deeper into the hut, to where Flash stood frozen in shock and fear in the middle of trying to remove the strip of fabric from around his brother's left forepaw. Then it turned its gaze back up toward Spyro, staring straight into his eyes with a look of utter confusion on its face. It cocked its head curiously to one side, then the other, before uttering a series of unusual chattering noises that set Spyro's jaw on edge. Spyro couldn't comprehend what the grublin was doing, but it looked as if it was almost uncertain about whether or not it was supposed to treat the purple dragon as an enemy or not. He noticed then that Flash had now fixed his gaze upon him, and there was a clear look of deep suspicion in his eyes as he witnessed the unusual scene.

_What is it doing?_ Spyro thought, utterly perplexed.

When another moment passed in which Spyro failed to respond to the grublin's inquisitive noises, the creature suddenly seemed to decide that he was indeed a foe and uttered a piercing shriek that nearly caused Spyro to jump out of his scales. The creature began groping for the weapon that was still set against the side of the tent, but before it could grab it Spyro shot out a beam of convexity that struck the grublin full in the chest and sent it hurtling back through the camp, immediately drawing the attention of all the other grublins in the area. Without wasting a second Spyro yanked the flap of the hut back shut and breathed a thick coating of ice over it.

"We have to leave now!" he exclaimed as the sounds of frenzied activity broke out inside the camp.

Flash wasted no time in removing his brother's remaining bonds, lashing out with his tail and slicing clean through the two thick straps with his tail blade. Without any support to hold him up Claymore began to tip over with a weak groan, but before he could hit the ground Spyro jumped over and caught the larger dragon on his back. With Flash's help, he soon had Claymore settled in a relatively steady position.

"Let's go!" he insisted, jerking his head forward. "Out the back!"

Flash nodded and jumped over to the back wall of the hut, rearing up and slashing hard with his talons, cutting a large opening in the fabric. A second later he let out a startled cry and leapt backward as a grublin blade slashed toward his exposed chest, very nearly cutting him open, and soon after the grublin wielding the weapon pushed into the hut. Spyro reacted instantly, though, unleashing a massive, focussed charge of electricity into the ground that shot past the grublin's feet before spreading out in all directions, electrocuting any grublins within a dozen metres of their exit from the hut. With the way now clear, he dashed out through the opening with Flash hot on his tail. Barely a couple of seconds after he was out of the hut, however, Spyro winced as a dark arrow whizzed past him.

"Flash, you need to cover us!" he called over his shoulder.

Flash didn't answer, but shortly afterward the trees lit up for a brief instant with a bright white light, and several grublins screamed in pain as if they had been badly burned. Several other flashes ensued, all accompanied by more screams. The arrows stopped coming.

"They're chasing us!" Flash exclaimed fearfully.

Spyro wasn't surprised, but this news still didn't encourage him. Though it was far easier to carry Claymore than the earth dragon's size would have led him to believe—probably from extreme malnourishment at the hands of the grublins—he was still considerably larger than Spyro was and it was difficult to run with him hanging off his back, not to mention that flying was a complete impossibility.

The forest lit up as Flash unleashed another of his breath attacks, and more grublins screamed as they were struck. However, Spyro didn't need to look back to know that there were still many more following them.

"I can't hold them off!" Flash shouted, beginning to sound hopeless as the sound of the grublins' cries grew in volume. "They won't stop!"

Spyro gave a low snarl of frustration, cursing the grublins for their tenacity. It became painfully obvious that with Claymore weighing them down, they had no chance of outrunning the grublins.

Resolving himself to a new plan of action, Spyro planted his forepaws into the dirt and slid to a sudden stop, nearly throwing the limp earth dragon from his back and causing Flash to falter in surprise and dismay.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Get behind me!" Spyro shouted back, spinning around to face the charging grublins and fixing them with a fierce glare.

The grublins, seeing their target stopped ahead of them, let out a series of shrill, eager cries and put on a burst of speed, bearing down on the purple dragon with bloodthirsty intent. Spyro, meanwhile, didn't so much a flinch as they charged toward him. Instead, with a sharp snarl, he reared up on his hind legs and raised his forepaws high into the air. The swarm of grublins faltered and panic swept across their expressions when they saw his paws begin to glow brightly with green energy. Unfortunately for them, there was nowhere they could go now to find safety from the attack they knew was coming.

With a bellowing roar, Spyro shot his paws downward and slammed them into the ground with earth-rattling force. As soon as they made contact, the built-up power he had stored in his body burst outward in a tremendous shockwave of pure energy. As the blast of green energy raced outward toward the grublins it split the earth along its path, flattened bushes and other underbrush and splintered several trees along the way, kicking up a screen of jagged, pointed debris that only added to the lethality of the attack. Then the shockwave swept over the column of grublins and sent them hurtling back through the air as soon as it struck them, killing many of them instantly and severely injuring many more. When the shockwave dissipated it left behind it a swath of destruction several dozen metres long and just as wide. Then, while the surviving grublins were still sprawled out dazed on the ground and the air was choked with a heavy screen of dust, Spyro darted over and grabbed Flash by the shoulder before using his Dragon Time to bring the world around them to a standstill.

"Don't let go of me!" Spyro ordered the white dragon before he turned sharply to his right and took off running.

Despite his shock and confusion, Flash obediently clenched the leading joint of his wing around Spyro's tail and followed after the purple dragon. As they ran, Spyro saw Flash glance back over his shoulder at the motionless group of grublins and a dumbfounded look crossed his expression before he turned to Spyro with a look of awe on his face.

"How are you doing that?" he exclaimed.

Spyro didn't answer, focussing solely on maintaining his hold on time until they were safe from the grublins. It was far more strenuous than he had imagined, dragging two other dragons into Dragon Time with him, but he was determined not to relent until they were safe. He could feel his strength waning at an alarming rate, however, and he feared that no matter how hard he tried, he might not be able to hold on until they were out of sight of the grublins. Somehow, though, he managed to keep it up until the grublins had just barely disappeared into the woods behind them, and with a heavy, strained gasp Spyro allowed time to resume its natural course, the world around them coming alive once again. He stumbled briefly, almost collapsing from the massive drain on his energy, but somehow he found the strength to keep running. Far behind them he could hear the puzzled and startled exclamations of the grublins, to whom it looked as if the three dragons had simply vanished into thin air. Then, gradually, even their voices faded away into the distance, the only sound within the forest becoming that of Spyro's and Flash's rapid footsteps against the soft forest floor and Spyro's heavy breathing.

Finally, a number of minutes later, Spyro and Flash felt confident enough that the grublins wouldn't be able to follow them and they began searching for a place to rest. Soon enough they found a sheltered plateau on the slope of the western line of mountain peaks that offered a good vantage point so that they would be able to see any foes coming. When they came to a stop Spyro staggered wearily for a brief moment, feeling utterly exhausted.

"Are you alright?" Flash asked concernedly as he helped lower Claymore off of Spyro's back and onto the soft ground.

"I will be," Spyro grunted as he tried to catch his breath. "That attack just took a lot out of me."

Flash nodded once before turning his concerned gaze down toward his brother. Claymore was lying on his side on the ground, his destroyed wing on top, gasping weakly for breath and wheezing quietly every couple of seconds.

"Hey, Claymore," Flash said quietly, his voice tight. "We made it, big brother. You're safe now."

Though he didn't open his eyes, Claymore offered a strained smile, and it sounded like he tried to chuckle but instead it came out as a weak cough.

"I didn't think...anyone would...come for...me," he muttered.

"What are you talking about?" Flash snorted, trying to laugh, though it came out choked. "Of course I came for you. I never stopped looking for you, Claymore."

Claymore smiled again, this time looking slightly more at ease about it, and he finally opened his good eye and gazed up tenderly at his younger brother.

"That's my bro," he said, his voice so soft it was difficult to hear. Then he slowly shifted his gaze until he was looking at Spyro, and for a brief moment his expression clouded with doubt. "You...helped Flash out?"

Spyro nodded, not trusting his voice enough to speak.

Claymore's expression softened somewhat. Then, wearily, he closed his eye again and allowed his head to settle more heavily against the ground.

"Thank you."

Spyro offered a small, strained smile in return, though with his eyes closed Claymore couldn't see it.

"Yeah, I gave him a bit of a hard time, though," Flash chuckled weakly, trying to lighten the mood, though the tears glistening in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

Claymore gave a quiet snort, followed by another cough, and opened his eye again.

"Of course you did," he sighed. "Always the...same with you. At least it...looks like you came...around."

Suddenly, Claymore's body tensed up and a strained, ragged cough burst from his throat, as if even the simple task of speaking had become too much for him. As he watched the other dragon struggling for air, Spyro felt a churning uneasiness growing in his gut. Now that he thought about it, moving Claymore in his present state probably hadn't been a good idea.

"Claymore!" Flash exclaimed anxiously when his brother's coughing didn't subside for several long seconds. "Claymore, are you alright? You're going to be okay, right?"

It took another moment for the earth dragon to get his breathing back under control. Once he had he opened his eye again to look up at his brother, but when Spyro saw the look within it he felt his fears increase sharply with a sense of realization.

"I'm sorry...Flash," he gasped. "I just...don't have anything...left in me."

Flash's eyes widened instantly in horror, and he began shaking his head fearfully back and forth.

"No, Claymore, you're going to be okay!" he said insistently, as if trying to convince himself more than anyone else. "I'm going to take care of you! We'll find some red healing gems, and then...we'll..."

He trailed off when he saw the look of profound sadness in his brother's eye. Claymore offered a weak, reassuring smile, but it was obviously forced.

"Red gems won't...do any good now, Flash," he said apologetically.

"No!" the white dragon exclaimed stubbornly, fresh tears forming in his eyes and a note of panic entering his voice. "I'm not giving up on you, Claymore! I can help you!"

"You already have, buddy. You got me...out of that place. That's all I...wanted. To be free...and to see you again."

"But...Claymore..."

Claymore smiled again, hoping to calm the younger dragon.

"It's okay, Flash," he told him, his voice growing fainter by the moment. "Listen...I'm really proud of you...little brother."

"Claymore...," Flash whimpered, his voice beginning to crack. "I need you with me."

"You made it...all this time...without me," Claymore replied as firmly as he could manage, shaking his head. "You're stronger than you...think. Besides...I'll still watch out for you, bro."

Flash was unable to reply, his rising grief at the knowledge of what was about to happen making it impossible to utter a sound past the clenching of his throat. As he watched the younger dragon struggling, Spyro felt a similar sorrow pressing down on him.

_It shouldn't be this way_, he thought mournfully.

"Thank you...Flash...for coming for me. For...everything," Claymore forced out as his last strength began to slip away, his eyes glazing over from the pain, losing focus. "It's been...fun..."

"Yeah," Flash choked, trying for a smile but not succeeding. "You've been a great brother, Clay."

"You...too," Claymore smiled faintly. "Thank you...buddy..."

His voice began to trail off, and while he said something else it was too faint for either Spyro or Flash to make out. Then his eye began to drift closed, his body beginning to sag as his last strength seeped out of him. Spyro and Flash were helpless to stop it as Claymore slipped away from them.

With one last, shaky breath, it was over.

"Claymore," Flash croaked shakily when his brother went still before him. He reached up with a forepaw that trembled weakly and rested it on his brother's shoulder, shaking him gently. "Claymore?"

The earth dragon didn't stir.

The truth of what had just transpired finally hit the young white dragon, and with a broken sob he finally succumbed to his grief, bending over weakly and resting his head against his brother's still flank, shaking as he wept. Off to the side, Spyro hung his head as his own sorrow came crashing down on top of him, hardly able to bear to see Flash having to endure such a loss.

_Ancestors, watch over him_, he prayed silently.

For several long minutes neither he nor Flash moved, Spyro simply allowing the young white dragon to grieve for his lost brother. The sorrow brought on by such a loss was something that Spyro was unfortunately familiar with, and he knew the delicate state that Flash was in now. The only thing to do was wait; wait for him to settle, wait for him to come to terms with what had happened. He didn't know how long the crying went on for, but it must have been a long time as the moons slowly crept across the sky overhead. Finally, when Flash's sobs had faded into a soft, broken whimpering, Spyro cautiously stepped over to his side and rested a paw on his shoulder. Flash stiffened at the contact, and gradually he lifted his head to look up at Spyro with questioning eyes, as if demanding why the purple dragon had come between him and his brother then.

"Let me," he said gently, nodding toward Claymore's body.

Flash glanced between the purple dragon and his brother reluctantly for a long moment, but finally, with a loud sniff, he relented and, with a great deal of effort, released his brother and took a step back. As soon as he had, Spyro closed his eyes and focussed his power toward the ground beneath the earth dragon, which began to gently churn and shift. Slowly, with an air of tranquillity, Claymore's body was lowered into the cool, strong, enduring stone and soil until he was completely covered by the element that he had wielded in life. The earth then stilled at Spyro's command, leaving the surface perfectly smooth, almost as if it had never been disturbed, save for a small, rectangular slab that protruded at an angle from the ground, facing eastward out over the valley.

"What do you want it to say?" Spyro asked, turning to Flash.

Flash didn't reply for almost a minute, simply staring at the ground where his brother had been just moments before he gave a weak shrug.

"I don't know," he muttered in a hoarse voice. "Just something so he'll be remembered."

Spyro nodded silently and turned his gaze toward the slab, deep in thought. Then, decided, he closed his eyes and, with his earth element, formed into the rock his message in the runes of the Common Language of the Dragon Realms, a form of writing universal to all races in the lands that all could understand.

_Here rests Claymore_

_Earth dragon_

_Caring brother, Loving friend_

_May his spirit find peace in this world_

_And bring comfort to those he leaves behind_

When he was finished, Spyro opened his eyes and turned to look at Flash again, though he said nothing. Though Flash didn't speak or offer any kind of response to Spyro's tribute to his brother, the purple dragon thought he saw a glint of approval in his moist eyes.

"What do I do now?" Flash asked feebly after a long time had passed in silence. "Claymore...was...all I had." He sniffed weakly, hanging his head low. "I have nothing to go back to."

The pain in his voice struck Spyro to the core of his being, and he gently shifted over and rested a comforting wing across the other dragon's back. It almost seemed selfish, what he was going to suggest, but he decided that it was best if he say it anyways and let Flash decide for himself.

"Come with me," he offered.

Flash seemed caught by surprise by this, and he turned a puzzled, uncertain gaze up at the purple dragon.

"To Warfang?" he asked quietly.

Spyro nodded. "Help me tell the guardians what's happened here. Then, with their help, maybe we can find out who did this."

Flash still looked uncertain, and he looked back toward his brother's grave. Several minutes passed in silence as the white dragon debated Spyro's suggestion.

"Claymore would want to know," he muttered at length, almost as if to himself.

Spyro didn't reply, simply waiting.

Finally, after another minute, Flash gave a heavy sigh and allowed his gaze to fall to the ground, taking a moment to blink his eyes tightly and squeeze out a number of built-up tears. Then he opened his eyes and looked at Spyro again, and when he did the purple dragon thought he saw a faint glimmer of determination veiled behind his enduring sorrow.

"Okay," he said. "I'll go with you."

Spyro gave a faint smile and nodded.

"Alright then. We should try and hurry; three weeks is too long to be gone."

Flash nodded in agreement, and though with great reluctance, he turned with Spyro and faced to the north, spreading his wings to begin the lengthy journey to the great dragon city. However, just before he took off, he looked back over his shoulder at his brother's final resting place, and Spyro heard him say a single, hoarse word.

"Goodbye."

Then, with a sudden haste about his movements, he turned his gaze forward and leapt into the sky, climbing rapidly up into the darkness. Spyro took off as well and hurried to catch up, and together the two young dragons angled to the north-east and disappeared into the night, hoping to reach Warfang as quickly as their weary bodies and spirits would allow them.

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><p><strong>:'(<strong>

**Wow. The last bit of this chapter was much more of a struggle than I was expecting. Why do I have to be so mean?**

**Poor Claymore... *sniff***

**EDIT: Made a minor change to the part where Spyro creates the memorial inscription for Claymore.**


	25. Chapter 24

**Well, got this done quicker than I expected, but here's the next chapter for you.**

**I tried to make this one of a less depressing tone, especially after last chapter, but it ended up somewhat gloomy all the same. Kind of unavoidable, given the current state of things, I suppose. Don't worry, though; the next chapter is going to have some action, so things will pick up considerably then.**

**Anyway, new chapter for you:**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 24:<span>_

While the pain in her body was all but gone, the pain within was a far more difficult thing to treat.

When Cynder opened her eyes, roused by the flat, grey glare that streamed in from the east-facing window of her room in the infirmary, she immediately wished that she simply hadn't woken up. Her sleep had brought peace and welcome forgetfulness with it, sheltering her from past events, but now that she was awake it only brought everything crashing back down on top of her, making her want to just curl up into a tight ball and seal herself off from the world.

After all, what did it hold for her except pain?

With a forlorn sigh, Cynder uncurled her wings from around her body and began trying to shift so that her head was no longer caught in the light that filtered through the overcast sky and into her window, hoping she might be able to fall back asleep for at least a short while longer. However, as she shifted, she winced as a dull twinge shot up from her right flank. Scowling bitterly, she glared down at her side.

When Sirius and Faren had brought her to the infirmary on the night of Spyro's rampage, they had arrived to a scene of chaos. A dozen dragons and moles that had been injured in the fighting had already been inside, healers of both species working frantically to stifle the bleeding of horribly deep gashes, set broken bones and treat a whole other variety of agonizing injuries. In her shattered, semi-conscious state, it had been too much for Cynder to bear to witness. It was like a final blow to her, erasing any lingering doubts of what Spyro had become when she saw the suffering that had been dealt by his paws. Her response had been to retreat deep into herself, becoming all but dead to the world around her, no longer caring what happened to her as moles and dragons began working feverishly to prevent her from succumbing to blood loss.

It had been a long, arduous process for her to endure. Work had lasted all through the night and long into the following day. There had been no rest, for her or the healers, as they worked to stop the bleeding in her wound, which was a considerable one to say the least. Long and deep, it had taken the efforts of no less than three healers to keep her from bleeding out in front of them, with alternating treatments of disinfecting herb pastes and red spirit gems. Though one would think that healing her would just be a simple matter of giving her enough red gems to heal her of all injury, in reality there was only so much energy that a dragon's body could take from the gems at a time without suffering any ill effects. Just like relying solely on green spirit gems for strength was hazardous, relying entirely on the healing power of the red gems could be even more dangerous than the wounds you were trying to heal. As a result, it had taken many, many hours of work before Cynder was out of danger, the healers painstakingly sealing Cynder's wound a bit at a time. By the middle of the afternoon when the gash was finally closed over, Cynder had been thoroughly exhausted and had simply collapsed into a heavy sleep as the healers wrapped a thin layer of protective bandages over her still-delicate flesh.

The bandage was still there, she realized, causing the scales beneath to itch uncomfortably, and it took all of her strength of will to keep from simply ripping it off right then and there. In fact, even despite her efforts, Cynder had actually begun to inch her tail blade toward a fold of the fabric when a sudden, weary groan startled her and caused her to freeze in place. She quickly turned her head around toward the front of the small, plain room, and when she saw the source of the noise she was taken by surprise. There, lying curled tightly on her side near the door to the room, was Faren.

Cynder found that she couldn't think of anything to say at this unexpected turn of events, and she only watched as, slowly, the thin red dragoness began to stir and uncoil her body, stretching out with another muffled groan as she tried to work out the stiffness from sleeping on the hard stone floor. After a long, silent yawn she finally cracked her bright green eyes open, which she blinked blearily a couple of times before she finally seemed to notice the black dragoness watching her every move.

"Oh!" Faren squeaked nervously, appearing embarrassed and also slightly unsettled by Cynder's hard eyes on her. "Oh, I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't realize I had fallen asleep here..."

She trailed off anxiously as Cynder continued to stare her down, unmoving, not so much as uttering a syllable or even blinking. Cynder, meanwhile, found herself in a sort of puzzled daze; she felt strangely numb, detached, as though her pain and despair from the day before had faded into an all-consuming, inescapable ache that filled her being. Finally, as Faren began shuffling her forepaws uncomfortably and averting her eyes from Cynder's, the black dragoness spoke.

"Were you here all night?" she asked in a stiff tone.

Faren quickly shook her head, as if she was afraid that Cynder was mad at her. "No. I came late in the evening, just to check on you. I didn't mean to stay. I just..."

Again Cynder didn't respond for a long moment, blankly processing the fire dragoness's words with hardly any reaction.

"Why?" she said at length.

Faren looked surprised, and even a little hurt by the question, but nonetheless she replied, "I was worried about you."

"Worried?" Cynder repeated, puzzled.

She looked away, considering those words, turning her gaze downward and absently tapping her tail blade against the stone floor. She didn't notice the dismayed look that flashed across Faren's expression when she noticed this action, as though she were afraid of what the other dragoness might do with the deadly weapon.

"Worried, why?"

"What do you mean?" Faren said, and this time it was her turn to sound puzzled. "You were hurt badly, Cynder. And you're my friend. Why wouldn't I be worried?"

Cynder looked up quickly, and when she noticed the look of deep concern etched into the red dragoness's features she suddenly felt a strange uncertainty, not entirely knowing how to react. However, barely a second later the feeling was replaced by a small swell of warmth and gratitude that managed to chase away some of her pain, if only for just a brief moment. It was such a simple statement, what Faren had said, but still Cynder found it deeply touching that Faren, who had been so extremely reserved and timid when they had first met, thought of her now as a friend.

It was something that she had begun to notice during the few training sessions the guardians had managed to fit in for them while not worrying about Spyro's behaviour, as if fighting side by side had helped Faren to forge a bond. At that time, Cynder had been surprised to find herself beginning to feel protective of Faren as she had allowed Cynder closer to her because of her seemingly delicate nature, but if the skill she had exhibited during their training was anything to go by, protection wasn't something she needed.

Still, the feeling of warmth and gratitude was short-lived when she looked around again and remembered where she was and what had brought her there. A hint of sadness managed to creep into her expression as she turned away to look out the window, letting out a sigh.

"Thanks," she muttered.

Faren quickly seemed to notice the tension in her voice, and with a concerned look in her eyes she leaned in slightly to look at her more closely.

"Do you want to talk?"

Cynder gave a low snort, as though it were a foolish question to ask.

"Talk about what?" she asked with an edge of sudden bitterness in her tone. "About the fact that two nights ago the dragon I thought loved me tried to rip me in two? Is _that_ what you mean?"

Faren looked taken aback by the flare of anger in the black dragoness's voice. Then a saddened look came over her expression, and her gaze dropped sullenly to the floor.

"I...I'll leave you alone," she muttered, rising to her feet to leave.

The hurt in her voice immediately caused Cynder to falter, and when she turned her head back to see Faren glumly padding toward the door she felt a sensation almost akin to panic shoot through her.

"Wait!"

Faren looked back into the room with a startled expression at the sudden call, and Cynder gazed back at her with just as surprised a look. She hadn't meant to just blurt the word out like that, but now she realized that, for a reason she couldn't entirely comprehend, the idea of being alone at that moment deeply unsettled her. When she caught sight of the lingering hurt in the other dragoness's eyes, though, a feeling of guilt came over her.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, averting her gaze. "I didn't mean to yell." Then she looked back up at Faren with an almost pleading look. "I would like it if you stayed."

A light smile immediately touched the dragoness's lips, and she nodded before turning back and sitting down where she had been moments before, facing her companion. When she had settled a moment passed in silence as Cynder suddenly found herself at a loss for words, still slightly reluctant to talk to anyone about what had happened and unsure of how to go about voicing her thoughts. Faren didn't pressure her, however, just waiting for her to decide on what to say.

"I just have trouble accepting that it's real, I guess," she muttered finally, after almost a full minute of silence had passed between them. "That he's gone..."

She trailed off as her voice tightened, a stab of pain rising in her chest. Then, all at once, the anger came surging back to her.

"How could he do this?" she demanded, slamming a forepaw against the stone floor. "How could he suddenly just turn against everything he used to care about? It doesn't make any sense!"

Faren's face was impassive, betraying only the slightest of flinches at Cynder's sudden outburst. Then, in a measured tone, she asked, "Do you believe it's too late to help him?"

Cynder sighed exasperatedly.

"I don't want to. I mean, I of all dragons should know that darkness is something you can escape. But after seeing that look in his eyes...that hatred..."

She looked up to see Faren still watching her with that carefully blank expression, though there was clear tension in her body. Cynder, however, wasn't fooled by her mask. She could tell the fear that the red dragoness was trying to hide from her; it was a futile attempt. After all, after years of experience Cynder had become a master of sensing it, exploiting it, and instilling it. Now, though, all it did was fuel her own helplessness.

"I'm afraid, Faren," she confessed at length, her voice tight. "I'm afraid that I'm losing him forever. I'm afraid of what he's becoming. What if nobody can stop him, before...?"

She hadn't the heart to continue with her question, but Faren seemed to guess what she meant anyway, and for just a brief moment Cynder could see the fear that flashed through her eyes.

"All we can do is try, I guess," she said quietly.

Cynder gave a low snort, but had nothing to say in response.

Very little was said between them in the span of time that followed. Faren said nothing at all, simply waiting for Cynder to decide she was ready to speak, and when she did it was usually small confessions about the fears and worries that had been plaguing her for those past few days, or about the sickening feeling of pain and betrayal that filled her now. She was somewhat embarrassed to be saying these things, since she wasn't one who liked to show what she felt was weakness in front of others, but after what she had endured she found that she just couldn't hold it in any longer. In all that time, Faren proved to be a surprisingly good and patient listener, and Cynder thought that it might have something to do with the fact that she rarely did any amount of talking herself. Still, she was extremely grateful for her company in that trying time.

They were interrupted about an hour later when a female mole attendant arrived at Cynder's small room and asked if Cynder was ready to have her bandage removed, a suggestion the dragoness was only too eager to agree to. The process took only a couple of minutes, the mole working with deft fingers to untie and unwrap the white strips of cloth from Cynder's midsection. Finally the last strip had been removed, leaving her flank bare. Then a heavy silence descended over the room as everyone looked down to examine her newly-revealed side.

"Well, it looks as though it's sealed over quite well," the mole concluded at length.

Cynder didn't reply, scowling down at her flank. While the mole was correct and the wound had completely closed over, leaving her flank smooth and undamaged once more, she hadn't come away unmarked either. In most cases, the healing energy of red gems was enough to erase all signs of a wound, healing damage quickly enough that no scar was left behind, but the slower healing required for her more serious injury meant that this wasn't the case. Now, Cynder frowned in mild distaste as she gazed upon the long, narrow line of silvery-white that ran across her flank and abdomen, faint by any standard but still in glaring contrast to her dark scales.

_In all my years of fighting, no one has ever managed to mark me like this_, she though grimly.

Though some might have been proud of a scar such as the one she now bore, considering it a testament of how they survived such a hardship, Cynder found that she wanted nothing more than to be rid of what she viewed as a reminder of an incident she would much rather forget. Looking at it now, all it served to do was to call up an image of that horrible moment in her memory, and she shuddered as she tried to force the scene out of her mind.

"It looks like there's no need for you to stay here any longer, then," the mole declared a moment later, looking up at Cynder. "Just take it easy for a while so you don't aggravate it."

Cynder glanced up at the mole briefly before turning her gaze back toward the scar, knowing that she should be grateful for the treatment she had received but only feeling hollow instead.

"Thanks," she grunted finally.

A look of sympathy flashed across the mole's expression, but she was wise enough not to try and offer any words of condolence. Instead she simply gave a slight nod before turning about and disappearing through the arched doorway and down the hall beyond. When she had gone, Faren turned her attention back to Cynder.

"Are you ready to leave?"

Cynder nodded without a second's hesitation. "Let's get out of this place."

She began shifting to get her paws underneath her, pushing against the cushion on which she had been lying ever since she had been brought into the room. Almost as soon as she began to push, however, she winced and gave a muffled grunt as a twinge of pain shot up from her side, the area around the healed wound still quite tender. Faren immediately moved closer to offer support, but Cynder refused her.

"I'm fine," she grunted before Faren had gone more than a step toward her.

Faren once again looked hurt by the black dragoness's harsh tone, but she said nothing and moved aside to allow Cynder to pass her. Then, silently, she followed Cynder down the hall. They moved with a slightly hurried step, both of them eager to leave the infirmary behind them and escape the sights and sounds of the pain Spyro's attack had caused. Cynder scarcely looked up as they moved through the halls, only lifting her gaze from the floor directly in front of her paws once the pair had passed through the infirmary's main doorway and emerged out into the open air of the city. Even then, though, it was impossible to escape the air of gloom, for the sky overhead was choked with heavy, dark clouds, and a faint rumble in the distance foretold the arrival of rain. Cynder could practically feel it coming on the winds.

"Where is everybody?" she asked when she looked around and saw the streets around them were almost totally deserted. The only moles and dragons in sight, aside from guards, were moving with a hurried air about their steps as if to minimize their time out in the open. The atmosphere within the city seemed unusually grim.

"I'm not sure," Faren replied, following her gaze.

The reply had sounded genuine, but Cynder had still caught the slight hesitation that had come before it, and she turned her head and fixed the red dragoness with a suspicious look. Faren drew back anxiously when she saw the intensity in Cynder's emerald eyes, and she gave up her resistance rather quickly after that.

"Okay," she sighed, lowering her gaze. "Yesterday the guardians put the City Guard on a high state of alertness. It seems like it's making people nervous."

"They put the Guard on alert?" Cynder repeated, straightening in surprise. "Why?"

She suspected that she already knew the answer, and when Faren looked up at her with a sad expression, it all but confirmed her thoughts. With a low growl, she turned and began storming up the street toward the temple.

"Where are you going?" Faren asked, hurrying to catch up to her.

"To hear the guardians' explanation," Cynder replied sharply without turning her gaze.

She heard Faren utter an uneasy sigh, but didn't so much as glance toward the other dragoness. She knew that it didn't bode well if the guardians had felt the need to increase the city's alertness. If they were planning something, she was determined to find out what it was.

It only took a few minutes before her destination came into sight up ahead, and without slowing her pace Cynder climbed the steps and began making her way down the halls to the main assembly chamber, where she felt it was most likely to find the guardians at that time. Soon enough she found that her assumption had been correct, for as she approached the hall's main entrance she heard the voices of the guardians coming from within. As she approached, however, she slowed with a feeling of surprise when she realized that there were many more voices than just those of the guardians coming from within the chamber, and curiously she began edging toward the doorway much more quietly than before. Puzzled by her reaction and still appearing slightly anxious, Faren crept along beside her. They both stopped once they reached the edge of the door, and cautiously Cynder inched her head forward and peered inside.

What she saw caught her by surprise. The atmosphere within the large space was far different than she had ever seen it before. A low wooden table had been brought in and set up in the centre of the chamber, and now several dragons and moles, including the guardians, were gathered around it, peering down at something spread out on its surface; possibly a map. Several of the dragons and moles were wearing armour, which immediately gave Cynder an uneasy feeling. The whole chamber looked more like a war room than the site of peaceful gathering and discussion that it was intended to be.

She spent a quick moment to glance around the room and try to identify as many of the members within as she could. Several of them were guards adorned in full armour that she didn't recognize. Aside from that, though, there were the three guardians, of course, along with Sirius who was seated by Terrador's right side, gazing down at the table with a grim, uneasy expression on his face. Not far away stood a much larger fire dragon that Cynder knew was Sirius's and Faren's father, the chief elder of the eastern city, Tythos. By his side was another, slightly smaller fire dragon wearing heavy but plain armour. She assumed that this was the eastern city's Captain of the City Guard, whom she had been told was named Pyruth, by the way he carried himself. On the far side of the table and with their backs turned to the doorway, Cynder saw Mason in the same armour she and Spyro had seen him in on the day they had first arrived in the city during the siege, and by his side stood Raulk, the bulky earth dragon towering over the mole beside him. He was wearing his more elegant wood armour from the northern city, but Cynder could see that it had now been engraved over the shoulder with the emblem of the Warfang City Guard; a pair of crossed mole short swords in front of a dragon, its head reared back mid-roar with a stream of fire escaping from its jaws. Hunter stood on Mason's other side, dressed in his usual red cloak. However, underneath the fabric Cynder could see that he was also wearing a set of light silver armour consisting of a breastplate, shoulder guards and bracers on his forearms.

"Alright, we have arrangements settled for the safety of the citizens, then," Terrador rumbled, addressing the moles, dragons, and cheetah that were gathered around the table. "Let's move on to finalizing our deployment plans for the guards. Mason, what is our status?"

"The last round of reports indicates that everything is ready, Master Terrador," the mole replied promptly. "All of our guards are fully equipped and ready to move into positions in short order. The catapults are also well equipped with ammunition, and are all reported to be in full working order."

"Good," Terrador grunted with an approving nod. Then he shifted his gaze to his right. "And what of your forces, Tythos?"

"Ready as well," the fire dragon elder replied without hesitation, glancing toward his captain in an invitation to carry on with the report.

"Our units have all been briefed regarding the chain of command they are expected to follow in the event of a deployment, Master Terrador," Pyruth declared in a sharp, decisively military tone. "When the time comes, you'll have no problem with them carrying out their instructions. The Eastern City Guard is fully at your disposal."

"Thank you, captain," Terrador said. "When we are finished here, I would like you to report to Mason so that the two of you can finalize the distribution of the two divisions."

Pyruth's only reply was a sharp nod. He glanced quickly toward Mason, who returned the gaze, both their faces impassive. Cynder was utterly unable to tell whether there was any rivalry between the two, or whether their interactions were anything short of professional.

Terrador then turned his attention toward Raulk, who straightened when the eyes of the earth guardian fell on him. There was silence for a moment, and in that time Cynder noticed a look of tension cross the larger dragon's features.

"And have you heard anything back from the elders of the northern city?" he asked, almost as if he were dreading the answer.

Raulk gave a low sigh before saying, "It's as you expected, Master Terrador. To summarize the chief elder's response in a more civilized tone, he said that they would have nothing to do with any operation of ours and that it was an affront against their dignity for us to expect that they would allow us to order their forces around in any way we saw fit." He paused, then added, "This was after a number of remarks of a somewhat more personal nature directed at me, which I feel do not bear repeating at this time."

Terrador snorted irritably. "Well, it had been wishful thinking to being with to expect that lot to be cooperative to begin with. This response was to be expected, I suppose."

"Indeed," Cyril huffed disdainfully. "Honestly, how one can be so pompous and self-absorbed, I will never understand."

Even despite her mood and the grim atmosphere within the room, Cynder couldn't help but smirk just a little at that remark, and she saw Terrador and Volteer exchanged similar looks, though they were careful to prevent the ice guardian from noticing.

"However," Raulk cut in suddenly, causing the guardians to look up at him curiously, "they did add that, in the event that danger were to present itself, we could count on their Guard to do all in their power to ensure the safety of their citizens. Given that the dragons from the northern city are housed throughout the core of Warfang, we can then be confident that that area will be well defended if an attack were to occur."

"Well, that's something at least," Terrador rumbled thoughtfully, glancing down at the map again, which Cynder had assumed by that point to be a map of the city. "Which means that the Warfang and Eastern Guards can focus their attention more toward the city's perimeter. We'll have to adjust our deployment plans accordingly."

"That will not be difficult," Mason said reassuringly, and Pyruth nodded in agreement.

"See to it immediately," Terrador instructed, receiving another pair of nods from the two captains. Then the hulking earth dragon turned his attention on Hunter, who had remained silent all throughout the proceedings so far, an expectant look in his expression.

"Prowlus's reply has been received," the cheetah reported without delay. "He and a division of our warriors from Avalar are on their way to the city as we speak and should arrive early this afternoon." He allowed a brief, grim smile to touch the corner of his mouth. "However, he made certain to voice his displeasure about it."

"Not surprising," Cyril muttered.

Terrador merely grunted, shooting his colleague a brief glance before looking back at Hunter. "Send him our gratitude. Any help we can count on in this situation is a small comfort."

Hunter inclined his head in confirmation.

It was at that moment that Cynder simply couldn't restrain her curiosity and anxiety any longer, for by that point she had a fairly good idea of what they were talking about and it caused a gut-wrenching surge of anxiety within her. To the shock of Faren beside her, she stepped out from behind the corner of the doorway and strode directly into the chamber. Almost immediately her approach was noticed by the guardians.

"Cynder," Terrador said with a great deal of surprise, causing everyone else in the room to spin around to face her with mildly startled expressions.

"What's going on?" Cynder asked suspiciously, glancing about at the members of the gathering with narrowed eyes.

No one answered for a moment. Terrador turned his head to look over at his two guardian companions, an uncertain look about his expression, but at length he gave a heavy sigh and allowed his head to sag toward the ground, defeated.

"I suppose there's no use trying to hide it from you," he said. "Ever since the events of two nights ago, we have been preparing the city for the possibility of an attack in light of Spyro's warning when he left the city."

Cynder's expression darkened slightly and her gaze drifted off as her mind flashed back to the words he had uttered, just after he had attacked her.

'_This isn't over.'_

"So..." she began, glancing around at the commotion within the chamber. "What's all this, then? You're planning on starting a war with him?"

Terrador sighed again, his expression becoming pinched.

"Believe me, Cynder, this was not an easy decision to come to," he said pleadingly. "But after the damage he did on his way out of the city, we have to take every precaution. If he attacks again the city will be at terrible risk, and we must do whatever is necessary to protect everyone inside it."

"Whatever is necessary?" Cynder repeated, a sudden swell of dread and horror rendering her voice weak when realization hit her full force. "You mean...kill him?"

She wanted them to say that she was wrong, that this wasn't what they were planning, but she felt her heart fall heavily when she saw the look of sadness and guilt that entered the earth guardian's eyes.

"If it comes to that, we don't see that we have any choice," he said mournfully.

Cynder felt like she had just been physically struck, and she retreated a couple of steps in horror, shaking her head.

"How could you even say that?" she demanded in a weak voice.

"Cynder, please, you have to see that it may be the only way to protect the city."

"But you can't just kill him!" she protested. "There has to be some other way!"

"What other way? You saw the way he was two nights ago. He didn't hesitate to turn against everything he used to care about. Almost fifty dragons and moles were critically injured in that attack. If he attacks again, dozens could easily die!"

"No," Cynder protested, her voice cracking. "He wouldn't—"

"He wouldn't?" Terrador exclaimed, cutting her short. "Cynder, look at what he did to _you_! None of us thought that he was capable of ever hurting you, but he could have easily killed you that night!"

Cynder faltered, unable to come up with a response, and her eyes fell to her right flank, to the pale scar that Spyro had left on her hide. A horrible feeling of uncertainty crashed over her.

_He's right_, she thought, and almost immediately she hated herself for thinking such a thing, but it was impossible now to deny. _He's not the dragon I knew anymore..._

"I can't understand how difficult this is for you, Cynder," Terrador said gently. "I know that. But this path he is embarking down is one we all unfortunately know well."

Those words stung her worst of all. The fact that Spyro could be likened at all to Malefor seemed profoundly wrong, but the evidence was out in the city for all to see. Cynder cringed as a sense of loss and sorrow suddenly stabbed at her heart upon the realization that Spyro may have truly become lost to them, and she shut her eyes tightly for a brief moment to try and hold back tears.

"You're right," she muttered finally with a tremendous effort, unable to meet the elder dragon's gaze. "He has to be stopped..."

"I am sorry, Cynder," Terrador said sadly.

Cynder nodded slowly, still gazing down at the floor and trying to hold her mixed emotions in check. She felt as if a storm of grief, anger, betrayal and confusion was raging inside of her, and if she didn't keep a tight hold on herself that she might explode from the force of it.

"Do..." she croaked unsteadily. "Do Sparx and his parents know?"

Terrador sighed before shaking his head.

"We haven't had the chance to tell them. Our focus has been devoted entirely to preparing the defence of the city."

Cynder nodded in understanding, but inside she felt that it seemed unfair to leave his family out from news such as this. Of course it would only bring them pain to hear the decision that the guardians had come to, but they deserved to know what may end up happening to their son. At the thought that the guardians were just going to leave the dragonflies in the dark about it, possibly right up until the battle actually broke out, she was filled with sudden bitterness.

_Were they even going to tell me?_ she wondered.

She shook the thought from her head quickly, though, knowing that it wouldn't change anything to dwell on it now.

"I'll tell them," she said to the guardians.

The three elder dragons all looked surprised—as well as many of the other dragons and moles in the chamber, but Cynder was trying not to notice the way they were watching her with grim looks of sympathy. After a moment, though, the surprise faded from their faces, and Terrador gave a small nod.

"Perhaps that is for the best," he grunted. "I wish you luck."

Cynder merely nodded in return, no longer trusting her voice to speak.

"We truly are sorry that things had to turn out this way," Cyril told her apologetically.

Cynder nodded again before turning away and retreating from the chamber before anything else could be said, doubting that she could bear any more of the conversation. Struggling to hold back tears of grief at this cruel twist of fate, she nearly ran into Faren who was still standing just beyond the door.

"Cynder...are you okay?" she asked anxiously.

"Fine," Cynder lied, turning away to try and hide her tears from the other dragoness. "I'm sorry, I have to go..."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

Cynder immediately shook her head. "Thank you, but I think it's better if I do this alone. You understand, right?"

Faren nodded immediately. "Of course. Listen, if you need anything—"

"I'll be fine," Cynder cut her off, just wanting to get away from that place then. "But thank you. Now, I really should go."

Before Faren could say anything else, Cynder pushed past her and hurried down the hallway, emerging outside in the grey light of the heavily clouded sky shortly afterward. She took a short moment to stare up at the clouds, appearing on the verge of unleashing their stored rain on the world below, and for some reason she thought it was strangely fitting in that moment.

Then she shook her head and, blinking again to force back her unshed tears, set off down the streets of the city on her way to the temporary residence of Spyro's and Sparx's parents. It didn't take her long to get there, for it was situated only a couple of blocks away from the temple and the residence where hers and Spyro's rooms were located. It was a mole-sized inn of moderate size, three levels tall with enough space for a dozen rooms on each of the floors. As such, it wasn't built with dragons being able to enter it and its rooms in mind, but Cynder was still young enough that she could fit without too much difficulty. After pausing for a moment to suppress her nerves, she passed through the main entrance and, after explaining her reason for entering to the mole attendants, began climbing the stairs to the third floor. Moments later she was standing before the closed entrance to the room where the dragonflies had been accommodated. After hesitating again for a moment, she lifted a forepaw and knocked lightly on the wooden door with a talon.

"Come in," came a voice from inside, Nina's by the sound of it.

Cynder was suddenly struck by a strong feeling of reluctance, feeling almost guilty about what she was about to do. This would no doubt be devastating to them, she realized with a twinge of sorrow.

Still, it was best if they found out this way.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Cynder placed her forepaw against the door and pushed, causing it to swing inward with a muffled creak. Through the now-open entranceway, Cynder saw that the room was an extremely simple one, with a single mole-sized bed against one wall, a dresser against another, a low set of shelves under the window and a simple table in the centre of the floor. However, the moles had tried their best to make it more comfortable for the tiny dragonflies, using such things as tightly folded blankets for beds and other such furnishings. Inside the room, she saw three distinct points of light hovering about.

"Cynder?" Nina, who was the closest to the doorway, said in surprise when she saw the black dragoness standing uncertainly in the hallway. "My, this is a surprise."

"It's good to see you out of the infirmary," Flash said as he and Sparx floated over closer to the doorway. "But what brings you here?"

It took a moment before Cynder could find the words to answer, and at length she said hesitantly, "Can I come in? There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Of course, dear," Nina replied, moving aside and waving with a tiny arm into the room. "Make yourself at home."

"Thank you," Cynder muttered, stepping slowly into the chamber and closing the door behind her with her tail. She advanced only a couple of steps into the room before coming to a halt, however, glancing around at the three dragonflies, suddenly at a loss for words. She was distracted from her task, however, when she heard Sparx utter a low, strained whistle from beside her.

"Whoa," he said in a subdued tone, and Cynder turned to see him looking down at the scar on her flank. "Spyro really got you good, huh?"

"Is it bad?" Flash asked her, concern clear in his voice.

Cynder immediately shook her head. "It's better now, thank you." Then she sighed before slowly sitting down on her haunches facing the dragonflies. "How are you all doing?"

The three dragonflies seemed to deflate slightly as they cast each other saddened glances. Then Nina gave a weary sign, clasping her hands in front of her and allowing her gaze to fall to the floor.

"We're just trying to make sense of it all still, I suppose," she said at length.

"This is something that we never could have seen coming," Flash added, nodding in agreement. "I mean, to think that Spyro could..."

He trailed off, apparently not having the heart to finish his sentence, and seeing the pain in their faces only made it more difficult for Cynder to carry on with what she knew she had to do.

"So what is it that you needed to talk to us about?" Sparx asked finally, an uncharacteristic seriousness about his demeanour that Cynder attributed to the effect his brother's betrayal had on him.

She sighed again, extremely reluctant to burden Spyro's family with her grim news, but she knew that she had no choice but to continue now.

"Listen," she said quietly. "There's something that I need to tell you, but...it's going to be hard to hear."

The dragonflies appeared unsettled by these words, and they exchanged anxious glances before turning their attention back to the black dragoness.

"Go on," Flash said simply.

Cynder faltered, her words failing her for a brief moment, but after taking a long, deep breath to collect her thoughts she was able to begin. Feeling hollow and deflated, she delved into the difficult news she had for the purple dragon's family...

***.*.***

Far to the north of Warfang, a young purple dragon sat alone atop the crest of a small hill in the otherwise flat, desolate plains that lay between the dormant volcano behind him and Warfang to the south, which was little more than an indistinct smudge in the distance to him now.

A sudden rustle behind him caused Nexus to turn his head back, glancing over his shoulder to see a single grublin anxiously climbing the hill to him. When it was only a few feet away, it stopped and addressed the purple dragon with a string of chirps and guttural warbles that would be unintelligible to any other dragon.

'The army is ready,' it stated.

Nexus shifted his gaze over slightly and paused for a moment to study the host of dark creatures that stood awaiting his instructions. Comprised of the full divisions that had attacked the eastern and northern dragon cities, as well as about half of the grublins that had participated with him in the assault of the mountain village, the army spread out before him was an impressive sight indeed, enough to fill any dragon with dread.

What came next should have been simple, Nexus knew. He had spent the morning simply waiting for the grublins to organize and prepare themselves to depart, but now that the time had come for him to order the advance, he found himself strangely reluctant to give the command. It was almost as if he didn't want to do it.

Barely seconds after he had this thought, Nexus felt a pressure growing within his mind, and a twinge of unease shot through him when he detected his master's familiar, chilling presence.

"_What is this reluctance I feel in you, Nexus?"_ his master asked in a tone that was difficult to decipher. _"Your moment of triumph is at hand. Are you unwilling to take this final step to ensure your success?"_

"No," Nexus replied immediately, not caring that, to the grublin standing behind him, it looked as if he was speaking to no one but himself.

"_And yet you hesitate. You doubt yourself, while you did not before."_

Nexus sighed and closed his eyes wearily, realizing that it was futile to deny his feelings to his master.

"It just doesn't seem right, that the only way to bring Spyro back to the Dark Realms is to destroy him like this," he relented finally. "He's not supposed to be my enemy, and yet here I am treating him like a target that I have to tear apart piece by piece."

"_Indeed, it is regrettable,"_ his master rumbled thoughtfully. _"But the methods used will mean nothing in the end. All that matters is returning Spyro to where he belongs; by our side. As long as you get him to the Dark Realms, it makes no difference how you do it. As soon as he is here, his destiny will be sealed."_

"Yes, Master," Nexus said with a grim nod.

"_Good. You have shown tremendous promise these last few weeks, Nexus. I am pleased. Now, finish this last task, and your success will be a certain thing. Hurry, before your opportunity passes you by."_

"I will not fail you, Master."

Nexus thought he detected a sense of satisfaction emanating from his master's presence before the contact was severed, the pressure receding from his mind. Then, once his thoughts were clear once again, Nexus gave a heavy sigh and resigned himself to his task.

A low, crashing rumble sounded from the dark grey sky overhead, and Nexus looked up just as he felt the first impacts of raindrops upon his scales. While the rain was but a mere drizzle at first, it rapidly gained intensity until it was coming down in sheets.

"Give the order," Nexus grunted to the grublin behind him. "The rain will conceal our approach. I want to be in position to strike at the city by nightfall."

The grublin nodded and gave a sharp reply of confirmation before turning about an unleashing a high-pitched screech that echoed across the plains. The call was answered a moment later by a chorus of thousands of eager voices, and all as one Nexus's army began to advance.

_One last battle_, Nexus thought, his expression hard and impassive with barely a hint of emotion. _One more fight before I can end this deception and bring Spyro back_.

_Let's get this over with_.

Rising to his feet, Nexus took a deep, steadying breath and subdued his emotions until only a hard determination remained. Then he began descending the shallow slope of the hill, leading his army toward the indistinct mass on the horizon that was Warfang.

Little did he know that at that very moment, another purple dragon was also making his way to that very same city...

* * *

><p><strong>Ooh, Nexus and Spyro are both heading to Warfang. How is this going to work out?<strong>

**Stay tuned and find out!**

**Until next time...**


	26. Chapter 25

**Whew, I FINALLY got this chapter finished!**

**I'm very sorry for the much longer than usual wait for this one. I had hoped to get this chapter finished a lot faster than this, especially considering how much I've been looking forward to this part of the story, but between school work, character drawings, family matters, reading Inheritance, playing Star Fox for 3DS, and myriad other distractions, I just didn't have time to write as much as I would have liked to.**

**Yeah, I know, excuses... :(  
><strong>

**Anyway, it's here and it's done. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that the next update won't take as long.**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 25:<span>_

Nexus found that there was just something strangely soothing about rain.

The droning patter of the fat raindrops as they pounded against the soggy earth created a steady, incessant rhythm that the purple dragon found calming like nothing else in the face of the struggle that loomed ahead of him, inescapable in his future and drawing nearer with every second that passed. For just that moment, he found that he was able push those thoughts out of his mind and allow the weeks of built up tension to melt away from his body. As he listened to the soft drumming that surrounded him on all sides and savoured the gentle cooling sensation as the miniscule droplets splashed against his scales, Nexus found himself feeling something he never had before. It was so unusual to him that it took him several seconds to place it, but when he did he chuckled softly with a wry grin.

Peace.

For several long moments, Nexus did nothing more than sit there marvelling at the novelty of the sensation, for it was something that he had never before experienced, nor had he expected to. In a life filled with gruelling training and an incessant struggle simply to survive, there was just no time to even consider such a feeling. As it was, though, Nexus found himself in an unforseen position; this was the first rain storm he had ever experienced in his life, after all, as difficult as that may have been to believe. He had seen them, of course, during the times that he had spent watching Spyro through the stone ring in his master's lair, but he had never lived through one until now, and he found that he was greatly enjoying the experience. It fascinated him, seeing the water cascading down from the sky far overhead, twisting and swirling in the errant gust of wind and tingeing the world around him in a flat grey, soft yet powerful at the same time. As he sat there, holding a forepaw in front of him and watching the way the rivulets of water streamed in seemingly random yet intricate patterns down his scales, he was filled with a simple, almost giddy pleasure.

_Giddy_, Nexus snorted inwardly. _If someone had told me just yesterday that I would feel like this, I would have laughed right in their face._

How strange it was, he thought in a state of deep contemplation, that something so simple could have such a profound effect on him.

Of course, the rain did have its drawbacks. The grublins were having an outright nightmarish time trying to keep their weapons and equipment dry and protect them from getting ruined by the mud that had already formed into a layer a couple of inches deep on the plain, and the constant cold and wetness was having a terrible effect on morale—not that Nexus particularly cared how the grublins felt, but it was a simple fact that grublins fought considerably better when they were enjoying the battle and weren't miserable from being rained on all day.

Still, Nexus wasn't overly concerned about the comfort of his slack-minded subordinates. If anything, he was amused by their grumbling, though in a mildly irritated sort of way. In the least it helped lighten some of the tension he felt whenever he thought about the coming battle.

Just at that moment the sound of the thick mud squashing beneath a massive foot caught Nexus's attention, and he turned his head to see one of his huge, lumbering grublin commanders plodding toward him with a rather distasteful air about its expression as it was forced to slog through the muck to report to its leader. This expression was swiftly replaced by one of shock and dismay, however, when its left foot slipped on a slight incline that had been rendered deceptively slick by the rain. Before it could catch itself, the massive creature's foot flew out from underneath it and with a startled rumble it fell flat on its back with a loud, wet squishing sound.

Nexus couldn't help himself. When he saw the fierce and hardened creature of war sprawled helplessly on the ground with slick mud plastered across every inch of its body he burst out in uncontrollable laughter, pointing with a talon and cackling without shame. The commotion drew the attention of many of the grublins nearby, and some of them even began to chuckle as well when they saw the fallen commander, but their laughter was rapidly silenced when the much larger grublin shot them a dark glare. Then, scowling furiously, the massive grublin struggled to its feet before trudging the rest of the way over to Nexus, who was still sniggering with a dark, devilish grin stretched across his muzzle. The grublin stopped a couple of metres away from the purple dragon, towering high over Nexus's head and glowering down at the laughing dragon.

"Having fun?" Nexus snickered, not at all intimidated by the grublin commander's girth.

The grublin's scowl deepened, and Nexus heard a low, threatening growl from deep within its throat, but he wasn't affected by this in the slightest. He only continued to smirk up at the hulking creature. It seemed to try its best to ignore his expression, instead making a series of inquiring grunts and rumbles.

"Patience," he replied carelessly when it had finished. "I want to wait until it's darkened a bit more before beginning the advance so that the defenders get as little warning as possible. Just go make sure everyone knows where they need to be for when I make my move."

The grublin growled irritably and gave a brusque retort, saying more or less that that was what it had just finished doing and had come to report to him about.

"Well then check again," Nexus replied simply. Then his expression began to darken when the grublin simply continued to scowl at him. "Just find some way to keep yourself busy. We aren't moving until I say we move, so go keep yourself occupied some way other than bothering me."

The grublin commander growled again, but it made no further arguments and stormed off back into the army's temporary camp, stomping and kicking at the mud like a child on the verge of throwing a tantrum. Nexus groaned and shook his head before turning to face to the north again. Closing his eyes, he lifted his snout up into the rain and simply allowed it to stream down his face and neck.

Slowly, the minutes ticked by and the light began to fade as the veiled sun crept ever closer to the horizon. Though Nexus and his army had only been a few hundred metres from Warfang's northern wall for the past hour, the heavy rain had completely obscured it from view, and therefore had meant that the guards atop the wall had been unable to detect their presence. Now, though, as the darkness descended upon the land, the guards were forced to light covered torches all along the wall, like beacons for Nexus and his army to see. When he saw this, Nexus felt a small grin flicker at the corner of his mouth.

The time had come.

"Alright, get ready," he called over his shoulder, scarcely turning his head as he kept his gaze fixed on the top of the wall.

Then, without waiting for a reply, he rose to his feet, shook his entire body to try and remove some of the mud that had become stuck to his scales, and began striding toward the city at a leisurely pace. As he walked, he concentrated his power and shifted back into his perfect copy of Spyro, for he had spent the day in his natural form upon realizing that it had been more than a month since he had appeared as himself for more than a few moments. It had felt like a small relief to be able to look at himself and see the shapes and colours he had known all his life, not those of another, even if only for a short time.

His approach went unnoticed until he was no more than a couple hundred feet from the base of the wall and the light from the torches above finally filtered down to him through the darkness and the rain. Even then, it was a few seconds before anyone finally caught sight of him. Then, at last, Nexus looked up when he was barely a hundred feet from the main gate and heard a mole call out from atop the wall.

"Stop!" the small furry creature exclaimed. "Identify yourself!"

Nexus gave an amused snort and turned his gaze up toward the guard, who was leaning out over the leading edge of the ramparts and squinting into the darkness to try and make out the form of the intruder. Then, slowly, the mole was able to see him clearly, and Nexus grinned wickedly when he saw the look of horror that seeped through his expression.

"It's him!" the guard shouted at the top of his lungs. "He's here!" Then he looked back down at Nexus. "State your purpose for coming here!"

Nexus's dark grin only grew wider before he turned his attention to the gate and began gathering all the power he could possibly manage. He reared up and extended his forepaws ahead of him, and a few seconds later a flickering ball of bright orange light began forming in the air before them, growing larger and brighter with each second that passed.

"Ancestors, help us," he heard the mole gasp in absolute horror. Then, with a note of panic in his voice, he shouted, "Sound the alarm! Sound the alarm! Now!"

An alarm bell began clanging insistently, shattering the stillness of the night, and mole guards along the wall above the gate appeared and began taking aim with their bows, but it was already too late. The power that Nexus had already gathered was staggering to comprehend, and with a loud, triumphant roar he thrust his paws forward and launched the ball of fiery energy at the gate.

With terrible force, it detonated.

***.*.***

_Of all the things that could happen today, it had to rain_.

Cynder sighed in frustration as she leaned against the inner sill of the window in Sparx's parent's room, staring out at the sheets of rain that were pouring down from the darkening night sky. The hour had grown late, but she hadn't left that room at all since arriving in the early afternoon to alert the dragonflies of the guardians' decision. After her explanation had been complete she hadn't had the will to leave, and the small group of four had spent the rest of the day seeking solace in each others' company.

The dragonfly family hadn't taken the news well, which Cynder found was no surprise. Having already been told about the damage Spyro had caused on his way out of the city and hearing about the increased activity of the Guard, it seemed as though they might have begun to expect that the guardians were thinking of resorting to more extreme measures, but actually hearing it had been an obvious blow to them. Now all of them, even Sparx, seemed detached. Flash and Nina were hovering together over in a back corner of the room, speaking quietly to each other and trying to keep themselves distracted. Cynder had heard bits and pieces of their conversation, but to her mild surprise she had never once heard them considering leaving the city and going back to the swamp, which she would have expected. It seemed, though, that even despite the pain it caused they felt that it was only right if they stayed in the city until the entire matter had been brought to a close, in one way or another.

The sound of plates of heavy armour clanking against each other reached Cynder's ears from the street below, and she tilted her gaze downward to see a group of four dragon guards, all of them fully armoured, marching along the empty street that ran past the inn. There was a look of grim focus in their expressions and their postures, as though they were about to perform a task that they much rather would not. Cynder thought she knew why; their orders from the guardians were to protect the city from Spyro by any means necessary, but while the defence of their home would usually be an assignment that the guards would perform with the utmost eagerness, in this case it was nowhere near that simple. Just a short while ago Spyro had been their hero and saviour, but now they were being told to be ready to kill him if the need and opportunity presented themselves. It was a lot for anyone to digest, and from the looks on their faces most of the guards were still struggling with it, just as Cynder was.

A loud sigh from behind her caused the black dragoness to turn her attention back into the room. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Sparx had been the source of the noise as he floated up behind her through the air to look out the window past her.

"Boy, what a party we have going in here," he grunted in half-hearted sarcasm. "I don't know about you, but all this _festivity_ is getting to be too much for me. Wanna get some air?"

Cynder shot him a sceptical look before glancing out the window again. Her frown deepening, she turned back to the dragonfly.

"In this?"

Sparx gave a small shrug. "Anything is better than in here right now, I think. Whatever, I'm going. You can stay or you can come. Up to you."

Cynder didn't answer as he turned in the air and began hovering toward the door. Then, after glancing out at the rain one more time, she gave a resigned snort and rose to her feet, padding silently after the golden dragonfly who was already tugging the door open. Flash and Nina watched the two of them depart the room but said nothing, and a moment later Cynder had pulled the door shut behind her, cutting off her view of the dragonfly parents. She turned and set off down the corridor after Sparx, and after only a couple of minutes the two of them had reached the front entrance of the building. When they got there, though, they ventured no further, just standing under the shelter of the overhang above the exterior of the main door and looking out at the rainy city.

"Man, how did we all get into this mess?" Sparx sighed as another pair of guards, moles this time, marched past in the street.

Cynder gave a bitter snort. "If we had that answer, we'd have fixed it by now."

Sparx's response was a low grunt under his breath, gazing distantly out over the city. Surprised by the lack of any verbal response at all, Cynder turned a curious gaze up at him and noticed the look of depression in his eyes.

"You going to be able to hang in there?" she asked, trying to sound teasing about it but not succeeding.

Sparx shrugged. "Hey, we've all gone through worse, right?"

"Yeah," Cynder said slowly. "But this is different."

This time it was Sparx's turn to snort bitterly. Then, suddenly, a more thoughtful look came over his expression, and he glanced down sidelong at Cynder.

"And how about you?"

Cynder was caught off guard by the question, and she looked up at Sparx in surprise, unsure of how to answer for a moment.

"Me?"

Sparx nodded. "Yeah. How are you doing dealing with Spyro going all...you know...?"

After another moment of stunned surprise, a half-hearted smirk spread at the corner of Cynder's mouth.

"You telling me you actually care?"

Sparx gave a small frown and crossed his arms.

"Don't go getting all excited about it."

Cynder chuckled quietly before turning her gaze away over the city. The rain was still pouring as hard as ever, while the sky had darkened so that it was almost pitch black now. This only served to make the atmosphere within the city even gloomier than before, and Cynder sighed as she felt the cold fingers of depression working their way into her soul.

"I don't know," she said finally. "I don't think it's actually fully hit me yet. I just...how can I believe that he's actually lost? Even now, it seems impossible that he would do something like this."

"Hmm. Yeah, I guess so."

They both gave heavy sighs as they stared out into the rain, and for several minutes nothing was said between them. Then, at length, Sparx turned hesitantly toward Cynder and cleared his throat uncertainly. At the sound, Cynder turned slightly to face him with a puzzled look.

"So, do you really think that the guardians are right?" he asked tentatively, almost as if he was afraid of what the answer might be. "That Spyro will..."

Cynder closed her eyes and let her head droop toward the ground, slowly releasing a tense breath a feeling as if she were being crushed beneath an unbearable weight.

"You heard him that night," she sighed at length without looking up. "We have no choice but to believe that he'll follow through on his word. Otherwise, if we're not prepared, then..."

She trailed off, finding that she didn't have the heart to consider what might come to pass. Beside her, Sparx drew in a long, slow breath and drooped slightly in the air.

"And what do you think of all these preparations the guardians are doing?" he asked after a tense silence. "Doesn't it seem a little...extreme to you? I mean, catapults, and all the guards...He's just one dragon, right?"

"Who knows what he's capable of now?" Cynder replied grimly. "Or what he might bring with him when he returns, whenever that is? It just makes sense to be cautious. After all, I guess no one wants a repeat of—"

She was suddenly cut short when, over the rumble of thunder in the sky and the droning patter of rain on the rooftops, the sound of an alarm bell began ringing out insistently from out of sight at the northern edge of the city. Cynder had just opened her mouth to ask what the cause of the noise was—more to herself than anything, for obviously Sparx didn't know—when she saw a bright flash of light and the roar of a horrific explosion rent the night sky. Cynder jolted backward in alarm at the sound, and beside her Sparx did the same. For several seconds the only sound that reached them was the fading echoes of the explosion before the alarm bell began sounding even more frantically than before.

"What the heck was _that_?" Sparx exclaimed in a panicky voice.

"I have an idea," Cynder said grimly, "but I hope to the Ancestors I'm wrong. Come on, let's try and get a better view."

"Wait, what?"

Cynder ignored the dragonfly's fearful protest and spread her wings, turning toward the temple which was the highest point in the city, but just before she could take off she heard a cry from behind her. When she glanced back over her shoulder, she saw two bright points of light racing toward them.

"What was that sound?" Flash demanded anxiously as he and Nina drew to a halt just a few feet away from Cynder and Sparx.

"That's what we were just going to find out," Cynder replied quickly, motioning with her head in the direction of the temple. "Come on!"

The three dragonflies all hesitated nervously for a moment, but when Cynder launched herself into the air they quickly made up their minds and raced after her. Cynder didn't look back as she shot through the air, practically invisible in the night sky with only the sheets of water she left swirling in her wake serving to mark her passing. Barely a minute later she had reached the temple, and without hesitating she angled for the highest point on the roof and alit heavily upon it. Flash, Nina and Sparx caught up with her just as she turned her gaze to the north. What she beheld, though, caused her to falter in dread.

The main northern gate had been completely torn asunder by some sort of blast whose power was frightful to imagine if it could do the sort of damage that she saw now. Splintered and crumbled pieces of stone and wood lay scattered about the courtyard in all directions, some of them having crashed into the walls of the buildings that lined the courtyard and doing terrible damage to them as well. Over the continuing toll of the alarm bell, Cynder could barely hear the sounds of panicked cries and screams rising from the area as moles and dragons were woken by the explosion, the area turning to chaos as residents poured out into the streets to investigate. What wood had been in the gate was now ablaze, casting the entire courtyard in a hellish red glow, the rain seeming to be inadequate to extinguish the raging flames. Then Cynder thought she saw new movement through the flickering light of the fires, and a moment later the dark form of a dragon could be seen stalking forward amongst the flames, appearing completely unconcerned by the fire that blazed all around. It paused atop a mound of ruined stone that overlooked the courtyard, surveying the scene before it, and a sudden flare from one of the fires nearby created enough light that, even from that distance, Cynder could make out the newcomer clearly.

Fear and dread coursed through her, and a terrible feeling of weakness filled her being when she saw that dragon, purple scales glinting in the light of the fire, eyes burning with dark intent, face set in a snarl that appeared at the same time filled with loathing, but also a hint of pleasure at the sight of the destruction he had wrought; the dragon whose return she had been at the same time praying for and dreading.

"Spyro," she gasped weakly.

The purple dragon resumed his advance into the courtyard, watching as terrified citizens scattered before him seeking shelter in the higher levels of the city. Then he paused and turned a dark glare up at the sentry tower that stood at the edge of the courtyard, just within the wall, where the alarm bell was continuing to ring out incessantly. Then, almost faster than Cynder could follow, he spun toward the tower, reared up on his hind legs and spat out a blazing fireball that shot through the air so quickly it appeared as little more than a streak of orange light. It struck the top of the tower, and Cynder flinched and recoiled in horror when the entire upper half of the structure was engulfed in a horrible explosion. Barely a second later massive chunks of stone debris began raining down on the city as the tower collapsed, the sound of the alarm bell falling silent to be replaced by renewed screaming.

"What is he doing?" Sparx yelped in a trembling voice. "Is he trying to destroy the whole city on his own? Why would he bother blowing the gates?"

Cynder was just about to reply that she didn't know, but before she could a new sound reached her ears, faint and distant at first but rapidly growing in strength. Only seconds passed before she was able to recognize the sound, and it seemed that Sparx did as well, for when she turned to look at him he returned a look of identical horror. Cynder then looked back to the north just in time to see a dark mass surge through the light of the flames eating away at the remains of the gate and alarm tower, appearing like a wave from a black sea, but Cynder knew all too well that this wasn't the case as she watched Spyro disappear into the surge of dark bodies.

"What are those things?" Nina exclaimed fearfully as a renewed wave of terrified screaming rose from the city's northern edge, the crash and clanging of battle sounding out moments later.

"Grublins," Cynder replied darkly.

"What?" Flash cut in, bewildered and clearly frightened.

"Bad news!" Sparx exclaimed insistently. Then he gripped at his head with his hands and began 'pacing' frantically back and forth through the air. "I can't believe this. My own brother is bringing an army to try and kill us all!"

"How...," Nina gasped in a weak voice, and it sounded like she was caught somewhere between tears and panic in her state of fear and confusion. "How could this be happening? How could our son do something like this?"

No one had any reply. The best that could be done was for Flash to float over and try to comfort the female dragonfly as much as possible, although he obviously felt the same way she did. Sparx, meanwhile, turned to Cynder.

"What do we do?" he asked quietly.

Cynder sighed heavily, turning to look back at the advancing grublins with a mixed feeling of pain and reluctance, but also the first sparks of anger inside of her. She knew what had to be done, but she was still reluctant to admit it. When a particularly loud scream echoed over the rooftops to them and she was reminded of the urgency of the situation, though, Cynder realized that there was no choice.

"We have to tell the guardians," she said in a sullen tone. "Come on."

Without a word the dragonflies followed her as she pushed off from the roof of the temple and glided quickly down to the main entranceway. Just as she was entering, though, she was forced to skid to a sudden halt when she nearly crashed headfirst into the guardians and Sirius, who were at that very moment rushing to exit the structure. They all had rather startled looks about them, though it seemed as though they were trying even then to regain control over their confusion and fears so that they could discover what the sudden commotion was about. Terrador was wearing a set of heavy bronze armour, but he was the only one adorned in such dress, which wasn't entirely a surprise to Cynder; the earth guardian was the most military-minded of the group, after all, and was therefore the most likely to be wearing armour at all times during a time of alert such as this one.

"Cynder," the great green dragon exclaimed when he saw the black dragoness before him. "What are you doing here?" He then glanced past her out the doorway of the temple. "Did you see what all that noise was?"

Cynder struggled to form a reply as she stared back up at the guardians, finding it extremely difficult to get the words out past the pain that filled her and the lump that was growing in her throat, but it seemed as though the look in her eyes was enough to give the elder dragon the answer to his question. His eyes widened slightly, and his expression took on a dismayed air.

"It's Spyro," Cynder managed to force out at last in a strained voice. "He's attacking the city..." She trailed off, a rush of emotion suddenly overwhelming her, but at length she was able to force herself to add, "With grublins."

"Grublins?" Cyril repeated in shock. "You mean he's actually gone so far as to recruit those vile creatures for his purposes?"

Cynder nodded, though she was unable to answer with words as the lump grew larger in her throat. Even as she confirmed the ice guardian's words, however, she still found that she couldn't quite make herself come to terms with the truth of the situation. To admit that Spyro was actually trying to overrun the city in the exact manner Malefor had done before him was simply too painful for her to bear.

"Then we have no time to lose," Terrador said grimly. "Volteer, Cyril, fly ahead and muster as many members of the Guard as possible and start coordinating a defensive line. Sirius, I want you to come with me. We're going to try and locate Captain Pyruth and see if we can start organizing the Eastern City Guard's forces."

"What about us?" Nina cut in anxiously before the large dragons could take off, causing them to look down at the small group in surprise.

"What?" Terrador managed.

"There has to be something we can do to help," Flash said in a strained voice, glancing toward Nina, who gave a small nod despite the clear anguish she was grappling with. He paused for a moment, struggling with his conflicted feelings, before he added, "We can't just stay here and do nothing. Not when..."

Terrador's expression softened in understanding, and he nodded.

"We will be needing all the help we can get to begin directing the citizens toward the shelters we've set up in the southern quadrant of the city. Any assistance you could render in directing those who cannot fight in that direction would be greatly appreciated, if you think that you can manage it."

Flash and Nina both nodded grimly. Terrador nodded in return, before shifting his gaze.

"Cynder?"

Cynder faltered and looked up at the massive dragon with wide eyes full of uncertainty. It was easy to tell what he was asking, but the very thought was enough to fill Cynder with dread and horror, and for several long moments she was completely unable to find her voice.

_I can't!_ she thought frantically. _I can't fight Spyro!_

"I...," she stammered as she struggled to form a response. "I-I don't..."

"I understand," Terrador said with a tinge of sadness, cutting her off. "We will not force you to do anything, although your assistance would be a great help." He then paused, his gaze sweeping over the four of them slowly with a look of profound regret in his large eyes, and as he turned to depart he said to them, "I am truly sorry."

Then, without another word, he and the other three dragons were gone, disappearing through the doorway of the temple and taking to the skies, rushing to the defence of their city and leaving Cynder and the three dragonflies frozen in place in the relative silence of the stone corridor. For a moment after they had gone Cynder was unable to move, the enormity of their situation immobilizing her with fear. Then she shook herself back to her senses and ran out the door of the temple just in time to see Volteer flying off to the east, Cyril to the west, and Terrador and Sirius streaking low over the ground to the north. The northern edge of the city was alit by a burning red glow as the army of grublins continued to press forward, leaving only destruction in their wake.

Sparx, Nina and Flash approached from behind her a moment later, but she said nothing to them as they arrived. Instead she sat in silence, staring out at the battle raging to the north as what few dragon and mole guards in the area, along with residents just trying to defend their homes, fought desperately to slow the grublins' advance and having no success. Every time a scream of pain or fear reached her, or the rumble of a fireball exploding or the snap or crash of some other elemental attack, Cynder winced and felt a fresh jab of grief within her, unable to bear seeing her new home being destroyed by none other than the dragon that she had helped to save it not long before. Tears stung her eyes, and she turned her head away, unable to stand seeing the continuing destruction.

_Why?_ she cried inwardly. _Why are you doing this, Spyro? To our home? To our friends? To everything you used to care about?_

She lingered on that thought for a long moment, the true weight of it slowly sinking in. If this continued any longer, then everything that Spyro fought for, and everything that _she_ had fought for since being freed, would be destroyed. Spyro would become the very thing that he had worked to destroy, and if the chain of events continued unchanged the world may very well be plunged into another age of darkness just as it had been under Malefor's dominance.

That was something that _couldn't_ be allowed to happen.

A hard sense of determination crept into her, and though the pain was still almost overwhelming, Cynder lifted her head and squared herself to the scene of devastation to the north, staring out at the sea of charging grublins that were still pushing deeper and deeper into the city with no true resistance. Spyro was nowhere to be seen, but Cynder had no doubt that he was in that battle somewhere, throwing all his power into the task of claiming the city and its seat of power as his own, for there was no longer any shred of doubt that this was his intention. Blinking once to clear the tears from her eyes, Cynder rose to her feet and took a long breath to collect her nerves, knowing what she had to do.

"He has to be stopped," she said quietly.

Sparx heaved a mournful sigh beside her, his whole body drooping.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he murmured in a dull tone. Then he looked up at her, and in his eyes she saw the fear and uncertainty that coursed through him. "But how are we going to do that?"

Cynder sighed and shook her head. "I don't know, but we have to try."

Sparx merely nodded grimly, turning his gaze away again. Cynder then looked back toward Spyro's parents who were huddled close together and staring out at the battle raging below them with looks of grief and horror on their faces. They looked back up at her a second later, and when they saw the look of grim determination in her eyes behind the pain, a look of horror flashed through their expressions. Nothing was said, however, for Cynder didn't have the heart to speak. Instead, fighting back the surge of pain and loathing at what she was about to do, and at the same time feeling a swell of anger within her for being forced to such measures, she turned away and spread her wings, taking off into the sky with Sparx following right beside her. Pounding her wings furiously, Cynder shot high into the sky like an arrow punching through the darkness and levelled out when she could see the entire city spread out beneath her through the rain. Then she turned northward and shot ahead toward the raging battle, searching for one figure amongst the tangle of thousands...

***.*.***

Chaos. In every street, around every corner, on the ground and in the sky, everywhere he looked it was a scene of utter confusion as dragons, moles and grublins clashed. The noise was deafening, with the war cries of grublins, roars of dragons, and the reverberating clang of steel mixing and fighting each other for dominance in the night. Every now and then the dull _boom_ of one of the catapults on the walls being fired echoed over the city as the moles on the walls tried to thin out the ranks of grublins that were still streaming in through the breach in the wall, and this only added to the chaotic atmosphere. The very air seemed to vibrate from the fear, desperation and adrenaline that had swept over the city.

And Nexus was loving every second of it.

All his doubt and reservations had been forgotten in the heat of the moment. For just that moment there was no greater plan that he had to keep his mind on, no thought of his master's approval or Spyro to distract him. The only thing that mattered was the present and whatever foe he found himself engaged with, where the only objective was survival and the only consequence was death. It was moments such as these that he had dreamed of all his life, and that he had had a small taste of in the mountain village. However, the short battle that had occurred underground could hardly compare to the struggle that he was now a part of, and it filled him with a thrill and excitement that he had never experienced in his life.

His ears somehow picked out a high whistle in the air to his right, and out of reflex he ducked his head and body low to the ground just as an arrow shot past him, missing his back and left wing by mere millimetres and striking the stone wall of a nearby building instead, the shaft snapping in half from the jolting impact. Nexus immediately rounded on the source of the shot and his eyes fell on a mole guard frantically trying to pull another arrow from his quiver, eyes widening in panic when the purple dragon's gaze fell onto him. Grinning wickedly, Nexus sucked in a breath before unleashing a blazing stream of electricity from his jaws. The bolt surged through the rainy air with remarkable ease, snapping and crackling crazily and illuminating the street for a dozen feet in all directions with a harsh yellowy-white glow. The mole screamed as the massive discharge cut through his body. Then, almost as if in slow motion, he crumpled limply to the ground, never to move again. Nexus's grin grew wider, and with a fresh surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins he began searching the tangle of bodies for his next opponent, stalking southward along the street with an air of dark purpose about his steps.

At the back of his mind, he knew that he wasn't going to be able to win this battle. While the element of surprise had worked wonderfully in his favour at the beginning of the clash, allowing his army to sweep almost a quarter of the way into the city with hardly any difficulty at all, after that it was as if they had hit a brick wall. With surprising haste the guards of the city had managed to organize a defensive front, and when the grublins met it their advance was brought to a grinding halt. It was only Nexus's presence that allowed his grublins to keep pushing slowly forward, but the battle was beginning to have a heavy toll on their numbers, and it would only be an hour or two at the most before it simply became impossible to remain in the city any longer.

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, however. It didn't cause him any distress, for taking the city had never been his objective anyway.

A swipe of his talons dispatched a cheetah warrior that had stepped in to try and block his path, and at the same time the grublins around him felled the last couple of dragons and moles still fighting, leaving their way forward clear for the moment as the remaining guards in the area retreated farther into the city to regroup with more defenders. Nexus eagerly gave chase, his grublins following right on his heels, their jubilant cries filling the air.

Just as he rounded a corner farther up the street and emerged into a small garden square, a bone-rattling roar cut through the background clamour and caused Nexus to dig in his heels, grinding to a startled halt as his defensive instincts kicked in. As he raised his wing to shield himself from an incoming attack he caught a split-second glimpse of a blue dragon shooting its head forward, jaws cracked open wide, and a second later he heard the easily recognizable, cold whistle of an ice attack.

Nexus's view of the rain had rapidly changed once the battle had begun; where before he had delighted in the novelty of it, now he despised it. It's cold, chilling weight slowed his movements, rendering him sluggish and feeling out of his normal rhythm, allowing a few glancing blows from claws and swords to land on his hide that never would have come near to hitting him otherwise. Worse than that, it presented a tremendous obstacle to his vision, filling the air with a dense, greyish haze and causing objects that normally would have been perfectly sharp and clear to appear blurred and indistinct after hardly any distance at all. Of course, he wasn't the only one being adversely affected by this, but because it was his first time actually fighting in the rain it seemed to hinder him the most. It left him feeling something that he hadn't felt in years, a feeling he despised.

Inexperience.

Now, though, his hatred of the rain only increased as it was suddenly turned into a weapon against him and his army. From his jaws, the ice dragon sent out a surge of super-cooled air that instantly froze every droplet of rain in the area and propelled the miniscule shards of ice to tremendous speeds, turning the rain into hundreds of needle-like darts that sped toward Nexus's troops with lethal velocity. Eerie shrieks and screams of pain could be heard all around as grublins left and right were pierced clear through by the razor-sharp ice darts, leaving them riddled with dozens of tiny holes all across their bodies. At least twenty of the grublins were felled by the attack, dramatically thinning out the forces that Nexus had with him at the moment. Nexus's scales and the tough membrane of his wing provided him with much better protection than the grublins possessed, but he still winced as he felt the sharp bite of dozens of the tiny projectiles lodging themselves in his flesh. When he lowered his wing, he looked down and scowled when he saw the thin needles of ice that stuck out slightly more than an inch all across his forelegs, chest, and the outside of his wing. He shook himself quickly to dislodge the shards before turning a cold glare up at his attacker. There he beheld three dragons aside from the ice dragon that had launched the surprise attack; one earth, one electricity, and one fire who was obviously their leader, for he carried himself with a clear air of authority. By the shape and design of their armour, Nexus realized that they were guards from the eastern dragon city.

"End of the line, traitor," the fire dragon snarled with clear hatred in his tone and his expression.

Nexus snorted. "You really think you four stand a chance of stopping me? That's bold."

The fire dragon's snarl deepened, and he lowered himself into a battle stance, fixing Nexus with a killing glare.

"If you think you're up to taking us all on, then make your move."

A dark grin stretched across Nexus's muzzle as the three other dragons moved into defensive positions beside their leader, and he too settled into a low stance facing them, muscles bunching and clenching as he readied himself to attack.

"Have it your way."

Immediately after the words were out of his mouth he stopped time and darted up to the ice dragon, who was standing on the right side of the group and was therefore one of the most exposed out of the lot of them. Then he ducked low and, at the same time as releasing his hold on time, launched himself straight up with all his strength, encircling himself in a shroud of flame in a vertical Comet Dash attack. The ice dragon gave a strangled gasp as Nexus rammed headfirst into the centre of his chest and was knocked up and sideways by the force of the attack. Then, breaking out from the curtain of flames, Nexus spun around and smashed the spade of his tail across the face of the electricity dragon just on his left, infusing the attack with energy from his convexity power. His opponent staggered and tripped, dazed almost to the point of blacking out from the startling force of the impact. Weakly, he collapsed over onto his right side, nearly crashing into the fire dragon leader as he did so.

The fire dragon was surprisingly quick to react, though, and mere seconds after he completed his tail attack Nexus was forced to twist frantically in the air to avoid a super-intense fireball that the red dragon spat in his direction. He hardly had time to recover from the dodge before the fire dragon followed up with a savage swing of his tail, coming within inches of taking Nexus's head off, and barely a second after that Nexus had to back-flap furiously to avoid having his chest ripped open by his opponent's talons, which placed him directly above the downed ice dragon. A sharp intake of breath alerted him to the coming attack, and thinking quickly he covered himself in a dense ball of earth.

He wasn't a second too soon. His stony shield had barely finished forming before he felt himself propelled a few feet upward by a vicious blast of icy energy, and through the earth surrounding him he could feel a thick coating of ice forming all around him. Without his earthy barrier he would have been frozen solid in an instant by the attack, doomed to shatter like glass when he fell back to the hard, unforgiving cobblestone roadway beneath him. As such he was unscathed, though he was rattled roughly about when a tail slammed into the outside of his shield, knocking him back through the air toward the grublins. Just before he impacted Nexus shattered his barrier with an earth blast from his jaws—for the thick ice coating prevented him from simply allowing the shield to break apart—and landed heavily on all fours on the street, skidding a couple of feet backward before coming to rest facing his opponents, smirking.

"So, you're going to make this interesting," he chuckled. "Good. I was afraid this was going to get boring."

"You don't get to become Captain of the Guard without any skills to show for it," the fire dragon retorted heatedly.

Nexus's eyes brightened. "Captain, huh? Excellent. A challenge before I get to the guardians."

"Unfortunately for you, you won't be getting that far."

With a roar the fire dragon captain lunged forward, followed closely by the other three guards. Nexus answered with his own roar and met them head on, his grublins emitting piercing war shrieks of their own and rushing forward eagerly to join the fray. The ice and earth dragons quickly peeled off to the sides to intercept their advance, leaving the fire and electricity dragons to deal with Nexus.

The three dragons closed with each other in a tangle of slashing talons and snapping jaws, attempting to tear their opponents to shreds. However, both Nexus and the guards found that their targets were just barely too fast for them to connect with. Nexus's smaller size gave him an advantage in such close quarters, allowing him to dodge and flank around his two opponents with much greater ease than they could, but their much greater physical strength levelled the field. Nexus flattened himself onto his belly on the ground to avoid a wave of fire that the guard captain sent out before rolling to his right to dodge a tail swing from the electricity dragon. Then, when he rolled back onto his feet, he leapt straight at the fire dragon only to be swatted aside by the guard's folded wing. The blow hardly even fazed him, though, and he landed easily and leapt again with speed that managed to catch the seasoned guards by surprise. He grinned with sinister triumph when he managed to sink the talons of his right forepaw into the scales just above the fire dragon's left shoulder, causing the larger dragon to snarl in pain. The guard bucked and thrashed violently for a second, trying to shake Nexus loose, but Nexus held tight throughout and wouldn't be budged. Then, with a furious growl, the captain suddenly ducked low, puzzling Nexus for a split-second before the caught sight of a flash of yellow scales ahead of him.

Letting out the slightest of startled grunts, Nexus pushed off from the fire dragon's shoulder just as the electricity dragon's tail sliced through the air where he had just been, following through with a lunge of his jaws, attempting to snap the smaller purple dragon up and crush the life out of him. Nexus responded by spinning around in the air and kicking out against the dragon's lower jaw, slamming his mouth shut with a painful _clack_ of teeth and knocking his head back. A blast of his earth breath was enough to knock him back a few feet, giving Nexus the breathing room he needed to focus on the fire dragon while his grublins kept the other two busy.

Nexus charged, head down and aiming to ram his horns into the larger dragon's chest, but his opponent reacted with surprising swiftness. With a roar, he reared back before slamming a forepaw firmly against the ground, causing a tremor to shoot through it. An instant later Nexus felt a tremendous build-up of energy beneath him but had no time to react before the ground exploded in a raging pillar of flames, launching him up into the air with a startled cry. Fortunately he was able to twist out of the path of the flames before he was too badly singed, but the attack still left him shaken; no one other than his master had ever managed to land such a blow on him, and now as he looked down at the steaming crater in the street where he had just been standing he found he was genuinely impressed by this dragon's power. Never before had he heard of a fire dragon being able to project an attack through the ground, let alone with that much explosive power.

_Maybe one of his parents was an earth dragon or something, _he considered thoughtfully.

He jolted in surprise when a bolt of electricity suddenly shot past him while he was distracted, and Nexus turned an accusatory glare down at the electricity dragon he had knocked down earlier. A second later the dragon attacked again, but this time Nexus was ready and with a sharp snarl he swung a forepaw around, funnelling his own electric power into it just as the new bolt of energy raced up toward him. Then, effortlessly, he swatted the bolt with his paw and sent it shooting down at the fire dragon instead of him. The captain's eyes widened in shock before the surge of electricity engulfed him, causing him to utter a strained roar of surprise and pain before staggering weakly from the shock.

Nexus wasted no time in seizing this opening. While both dragons were still recovering from their respective types of shock, he dove straight down toward the street and impacted heavily with all four paws, sending a large ripple through the earth that unbalanced both of his opponents. Then he spun around and breathed a thick wave of icy particles over the electricity dragon, freezing him solid before he could react. He then rounded on the fire dragon, who was momentarily locked in place staring at his ice-entombed comrade in horror. His face quickly transformed into a snarl of rage, but before he could launch into an attack Nexus fired out a broad wave of electricity, multiple lightning-like chains dancing through the air in all directions and making it impossible to avoid the attack. The fire dragon roared in pain as the surge of current tore through his body. Then, while he was dazed, Nexus charged forward and unleashed a crippling combo of physical attacks mixed with attacks from his elements, his speed advantage playing hugely to his favour at that point. The fire dragon quickly found himself overwhelmed as Nexus circled him over and over again, landing blows from all sides, and while he put up a valiant fight and managed to land a sound blow on his smaller opponent on more than one occasion, he was still no match for Nexus.

Finally, in a last desperate attempt to overpower his foe, the fire dragon captain gathered a tremendous swell of power before unleashing it into the street beneath him, causing the cobblestone street to heave and crack in a powerful outward wave, the earth getting forced upward and outward by the blaze of fire that surged up from the newly-formed cracks as the wave spread. Nexus was very nearly caught in the devastating attack, but at the last second he managed to shoot up into the air and, while his opponent was still recovering from the drain on his power, he dove straight down in a blaze of convexity energy, like a dark violet comet, and crashed directly into the fire dragon. The resulting explosion drowned out the dragon's roar of pain, and when the smoke and purple haze cleared Nexus just caught a glimpse of his foe tumbling through the air before crashing into the wall of a nearby building, his head rocking back and impacting the stone with a sickening _thud_. Then he slid limply to the ground, unmoving.

Feeling a little breathless from the struggle, Nexus slowly straightened and cast his gaze around the garden, taking stock of the situation and pleased by what he saw. The grublins had managed to subdue the ice dragon by that point, having broken one of his forelegs and opening numerous gashes along his flank that steadily spilled blood, weakening him more with every second that ticked past. They didn't bother with killing him, though, instead moving to assist their comrades in battling the much more stubborn earth dragon, but when he saw the fresh cluster of grublins surging toward him and the state of his three fellow guards, he elected to retreat instead of suffering the same fate. Nexus assumed that it was to spread a warning of what had happened in the garden square, but it could have simply been cowardice. To be fair, though, he had fought well, and so Nexus decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and call his retreat a tactical move.

After rolling his shoulders to try and shake off some of the ache from the blows he had received, Nexus turned his attention back to the grublins that were gathering around him, awaiting his next order. He was surprised when he counted only nine remaining out of the forty that he had originally had with him. He scowled in irritation; though he didn't care for the grublins, neither did he like having his forces slaughtered in battle.

"Regroup with the other divisions," he ordered them at length. "Spread the word to pull out of the city on my signal. I think we've pretty much accomplished what we came here for."

As he said those last words, he tilted his gaze up to look out at the city surrounding them, listening for a moment to the sounds of the raging battle that still held the city in its grasp. Screams of terror and pain could be heard everywhere as non-combatants fled the horrible fighting for shelters and the guards fought with their lives to protect them. Even in the heavy rain, numerous raging fires had been set amongst the more flammable of the city's buildings, casting the sky in a deep, foreboding red glow and filling the air with the acrid smell of smoke. It was a scene of absolute panic and fear, exactly as he had meant it to be.

An inquiring noise made by one of the grublins caught his attention again, and he turned his gaze down to see the creatures all looking at him quizzically.

"I have one more thing to take care of," Nexus replied simply. He waved a wing dismissively. "Now, get moving. I don't want any more time wasted."

The grublins nodded sharply and scrambled to obey, falling back northward along the streets and dispersing to spread his orders around the rest of the army. Nexus, meanwhile, turned to the south and looked up to where he could just see the tip of the temple's roof over the rest of the city, barely more than a silhouette against the dark night sky.

"And now, to find the guardians," he muttered to himself.

With cold purpose about his steps, Nexus began advancing deeper into the city, disappearing moments later into the rainy streets.

***.*.***

"Looks like we're going to have to fly through a storm," Spyro grunted as he gazed out from the sheltered grotto in the sloped eastern face of a low mountain where he and his travelling companion had stopped to rest.

On the eastern horizon he could see the angry storm clouds that hung heavily in the air, growing and expanding outward from the sea to the south. It looked as though, in only a couple of hours, it could stretch all the way from the dam in the east to the Valley of Avalar and well to the north from there, maybe even all the way to the volcano, with Warfang right in its centre. Flying through it was not going to be an enjoyable task.

The only response he got for his statement was a low grunt from Flash, and Spyro turned his head back to see the white dragon curled up on his side with his chin resting heavily on his forepaws, gazing with empty eyes out at nothing in particular with a look of heavy sadness and depression about his features. Immediately he felt a swell of sympathy and sadness within his own heart, and he let out a small sigh and looked away again, knowing that saying anything wouldn't do any good. Flash had been in a horrible state ever since the two of them had set off southward from the mountains, leaving Claymore's fresh grave behind them. Spyro knew that it was going to take a great deal of time for him to get over his brother's passing, especially since the earth dragon had been the only family he'd had for most of his life. He felt confident that Flash would eventually pull through—after all, he had shown remarkable strength during the few days that he and Spyro had been searching together—but that didn't make it any easier to see him like that.

_He shouldn't have to go through something like this_, he thought sadly. _No one deserves having to live with something like this._

A sting of guilt suddenly pierced through his veil of sadness, and Spyro winced slightly and turned his head farther away, as if to keep Flash from seeing his discomfort. Though deep inside, Spyro knew that he and Flash had done all that they could for the earth dragon, he couldn't help but wonder if that was actually true. A nagging part of him kept telling him that his efforts obviously hadn't been enough, and that he had let Claymore die. He had promised that he would help Flash find his brother, and he supposed that he had done just that, even if it hadn't turned out as he had hoped, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't help but feel that he had failed the white dragon.

_Was there something more that I could have done?_ he wondered helplessly. _Did I give up too soon?_

He shook his head roughly, trying to chase those troubled thoughts from his consciousness. Brooding over the past would do neither him nor Flash any good, not when they had yet to reach the safety and security of Warfang where he could tell the guardians all that had happened over the past few weeks. They had travelled about two thirds of the distance over the course of the previous night and day, stopping to rest at the northern edge of the Valley of Avalar, and only a few hours' flight was left before they reached the city. By his estimation, Spyro guessed that they would arrive in Warfang only a couple of hours after nightfall, and despite the grim situation he was eager to see his new home again.

Sighing again, he pushed himself up to his feet and padded quietly over to Flash's side, nudging him with a balled forepaw gently.

"Come on, Flash," he said. "Let's keep moving. We can rest better when we get to the city."

Flash didn't reply for a moment, scarcely moving or even acknowledging that he had heard the purple dragon, but finally, with a heavy exhale, he turned his head up and fixed Spyro with a hard, distant gaze before nodding resignedly.

"Alright," he muttered, and with a sigh he also rose off the ground.

Together, the pair of dragons kicked off from the edge of the grotto and climbed steadily into the sky, levelling off at a moderate altitude and turning to the east, setting off on their journey once again. The going was relatively easy for the first hour, but things got considerably more difficult when the rain hit just after they passed the cheetah village on the valley's eastern edge—which appeared strangely quiet, Spyro thought as they passed the cluster of wooden huts by without a single sign of cheetahs within the village's walls. From there, it was a long few hours of struggling through the heavy rain and unforgiving winds before the two soaked and dispirited dragons finally caught sight of Warfang in the distance through the darkness, alit by the bright glow of torches in the dreary night.

"There it is," Spyro declared with a feeling of grim relief, nodding with his head toward the city. "Finally."

As the pair drew closer, however, Spyro realized that something wasn't right. The red glow of the torches seemed too bright and too wild, entirely lacking in the warm sense of comfort that usually accompanied them. The rain made it extremely difficult to make anything out clearly, though, and it took another few minutes of flying before he and Flash were finally able to understand what was going on. When they did, though, Spyro let out a horrified gasp.

The city was burning, buildings everywhere being ravaged by the hungry red flames that were the source of the unusual light. Even the rain wasn't enough to dampen the conflagration. What was worse, though, was the sound. Over the crackle of the fires he heard the sound of screaming, the clash of battle, and, worst of all, the unmistakable shrieks and battle cries of countless grublins. A huge hole had been blown in the wall where the main gate should have been, and now throngs of the dark creatures could be seen rampaging freely through most of the southern half of the city, falling eagerly on any citizens, guards or not, that they found in their paths.

"What's going on?" he demanded, panicked by the horrible sights and sounds. "Where did all these grublins come from?"

"This is a lot more than there were when my village was attacked," Flash commented anxiously, gazing out at the ranks of the dark army.

Spyro faltered as realization hit him, and he turned a horrified look toward Flash.

"The other two cities," he said weakly. "The grublins in those areas must have finished with them and moved on here! We have to do something!"

"But what?" Flash exclaimed fearfully, looking down at the city. "Look how many there are! What can we do?"

Spyro had no immediate reply, and he gazed down at the city again with a feeling of helplessness as he witnessed his home being ravaged by the horrible creatures, but a moment later straightened when an idea suddenly struck him.

"The guardians!" he exclaimed. "We have to find them. They'll know what we can do. Come on, let's go!"

Without wasting a second he beat his wings hard to the rear and shot down through the sky, pointed straight at the burning city. Flash hesitated nervously for a moment before giving a relenting groan and following after the purple dragon. Within minutes the pair had crossed the remaining distance to the city and were streaking high over the rooftops, heading for the centre of the city and the dragon temple, Spyro hoping desperately that the guardians were there. He tried not to look down at the scene of devastation just below him, but he couldn't help his eyes from being drawn to the horrible battles raging below, dragons and moles fighting frantically to protect their homes from being overrun and looking like they were having only marginal success against the relentless horde of grublins.

A sudden feeling of uneasiness suddenly rose within the pit of Spyro's gut, and he faltered and looked around, for some reason getting the feeling that imminent danger was somewhere nearby. Just then he thought he caught the sound of rushing air, like a body streaking through the sky, but it was so faint against the clamour of the battle below that he couldn't be sure where it was coming from, or if he had even heard it. Puzzled, he drew to a slow hover, still looking around, his feeling of anxiety only growing in strength.

"Spyro?" Flash said inquisitively when he noticed the purple dragon stop. "What is it?"

Spyro opened his mouth to reply, but at that very moment something suddenly slammed into him from above out of nowhere and the words were cut off with a sharp, jolting grunt as he was roughly propelled downward by the impact. He thought he heard the distant sound of Flash calling out in shock and alarm, but it was lost amidst the rising clash of the battle below as he streaked toward the earth. He was aware of the sharp pinch of talons digging into his scales and the weight of an unseen figure riding him toward the ground, but he was too dazed and startled to even think of fighting against his attacker. All he could do was watch with wide, horrified eyes as the ground raced up toward him, helpless to stop his descent.

Mere moments before impact, the figure released its hold on him and was gone without a trace. Desperately, Spyro spread his wings as wide as he dared to slow his fall without wrenching his wings from their sockets, but it was far too late to stop himself by that point. He gave a muffled grunt of pain as he crashed through a layer of wooden framework serving as a covering for a sort of garden pavilion underneath. Then he struck the hard stone ground and cried out as pain exploded up from his shoulder and flank. He tumbled roughly for several metres before he finally came to rest in a heap in the middle of a wide stone pathway leading between diverse flowerbeds. Weakly, he began trying to roll himself onto his stomach and rise to his feet, wincing and groaning as pain shot up from the numerous bruises that now covered his body. His head spun dizzyingly from the fall and the tumble, while every inch of his body ached to the point that he couldn't tell if anything was broken or not.

A soft rushing of air and the _slap_ of talons striking wet stone alerted Spyro that he was no longer alone, and with a startled gasp he spun around toward his assailant who had just dropped through the hole he had made in the garden's canopy. When he saw who it was that had attacked him, though, a feeling of utter bewilderment, confusion, and also a hint of fear swept over him, and for a long moment he could only stand there, swaying from shock as weakness spread through his limbs. In the end, as he stood facing the dark figure that was stalking silently toward him, rage unmistakable in their eyes, he was only able to utter a name.

"Cynder?"

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><p><strong>That...can't...be good...<strong>


	27. Chapter 26

**...What's that you say? My last chapter got _twelve_ reviews? ! ?  
><strong>

***faints***

**Honestly, though, I am absolutely blown away right now. I was hoping for a good response from my last chapter, but this is just totally amazing. All I can say is thank you all SO much! Getting a review or comment makes my day, so you guys are awesome! :)**

**Okay, so, long chapter is long. It's making me very glad that I decided to split this scene into two chapters now. For one thing, it gave me an awesome cliffhanger opportunity in chap 25, and it kept the length of this chapter from getting absolutely rediculous!**

**Anyway, here's the next chapter for you all. I hope you enjoy it! Be warned, the POV does jump around a lot. I just had a lot going on at once in this scene that I needed to keep up with. I'll just apologize in advance...**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 26:<span>_

"Spyro!" Flash called, shocked, as he watched the purple dragon getting driven out of the sky and toward the city rooftops below.

He was so stunned that for a long moment all he could do was hover in one spot, watching numbly as a black-scaled figure forced Spyro downward at an ever-increasing speed, the purple dragon helpless to free himself as his attacker held him firmly in their grip. Flash winced when the unknown black dragon suddenly released Spyro and sent him crashing through a wooden lattice covering over some sort of pavilion. Then the figure looped up and around and, streamlining her body—for he could now tell by her form that she was female—shot through the hole that Spyro had made, disappearing from sight.

A swell of urgency took hold of him, and Flash immediately angled his nose downward to dive after the two dragons, ready to rush to Spyro's assistance. Ever since he and Spyro had departed the mountains for Warfang, any last reservations he'd harboured about the purple dragon had faded away. Now Spyro was the closest thing to a friend that he had, and he wasn't about to lose that now. Not after he had already lost everything else.

When he had crossed about half the distance separating him from the covered pavilion, though, Flash was startled by a sudden, shrill cry that rang out from somewhere just to his left, and he looked up just in time to receive a heavy blow from a hardened club to his head. His vision flashed white, and he uttered a weak grunt as the sudden blow scrambled his senses and left him reeling, tumbling limply through the sky as he tried dazedly to regain his bearings. When he finally realized that he was falling he snapped one wing outward to roll himself back upright before gradually levelling out, shaking his head roughly to clear it and looking around for his attacker.

The screech came again, and this time Flash managed to catch sight of his assailant in time to avoid another blow. He barely managed to spin away from the swinging club before it struck his wing, coming around to face the flying grublin that had attacked him, only to find not one but four of the vile creatures charging toward him.

Panicked, Flash back-flapped furiously in an attempt to put some distance between him and the grublins before they could land another hit on him, but they were moving too fast for him to escape and within moments they were upon him, the leader raising its club to strike. Flash just barely managed to duck its swing, then yelped in pain as another grublin landed a hit on his flank just below his wing. He managed to block the next couple of swings on his talons before frantically lashing out with his tail blade. He missed, but he still managed to scatter the grublins long enough to line up another attack.

Cracking his jaws open wide, he breathed out a narrow beam of light that struck the leading grublin on one of its insect-like wings, melting through the filmy material and causing the grublin to screech in pain before falling helplessly toward the earth. The other three grublins were stunned as they watched their comrade fall, and Flash took advantage of this opening to blast another of them with his light element.

After this, though, the other two grublins uttered squeals of rage and charged with reckless abandon, and Flash's eyes widened in surprise and fear when he saw them bearing down on him with bloodthirsty intent. Without even taking the time to think he twisted around and beat his wings hard once, propelling himself downward toward the ground at tremendous speed. The grublins gave chase, but only a second later Flash used one wing to spin himself completely around and unleashed a massive blast of light from his jaws, scorching both of his pursuers severely in an instant and causing them to tumble out of the sky with weak cries of pain.

Now free of the grublins, Flash returned his attention to his surroundings and jolted when he realized just how close to the earth he was. Mere moments before he struck the ground, he spun himself around again and flared his wings wide, managing to halt his fall just before he impacted the hard stone street. He grunted as he landed heavily on all four paws, the shock of the impact rattling his joints painfully, but he was gratefully unharmed.

A sudden scream caused him to jump badly, and Flash whipped his gaze around to see battles raging at numerous points along the streets that surrounded him. The sight of dragons, moles, and grublins locked in their mortal combat, and of the blood that stained the cobblestones and the lifeless bodies scattered about, filled Flash with a feeling of horror that was even greater than the night that his own home was attacked, for this battle was of a much greater scale and was far more desperate. He winced and a tremor ran through him as images from that night flashed in his memory, and he tried to force the scenes from his mind before the feelings of terror and panic that accompanied them could overwhelm him.

_I can't do this_, he cried in his mind. _I can't go through this again_.

Just at that moment, though, a familiar-sounding shout of pain reached his ears from somewhere over the rooftops, and Flash's head jerked up at the sound. All at once he remembered the danger that Spyro could be in at that very moment, and though his fear was still almost crippling he was also filled with a fresh surge of determination.

With a wordless cry, Flash took off running as fast as his legs could carry him through the streets and the chaos that surrounded him, hoping desperately that he could locate Spyro before any harm befell either of them.

***.*.***

He should have been glad to see her. He should have felt relieved to no longer be separated from her, especially during an attack such as this. But when Spyro gazed upon the black dragoness stalking slowly closer to him with a snarl of blazing anger on her face, he could feel nothing but confusion and rapidly mounting fear.

_Why did she attack me?_ he wondered, stunned. _And why does she look so angry at me?_

No answer was forthcoming, and as Cynder continued to draw closer, a low, menacing growl coming from deep in her chest, Spyro began backing nervously away.

"Cynder, what are you doing?" he stammered.

She didn't reply. If anything, hearing him speak only caused her eyes to flash with renewed fury, and her snarling grew louder. Spyro uttered a weak gasp when he felt himself strike something with his hindquarters, and he glanced back over his shoulder to see that he had backed into a low stone wall surrounding one of the scattered flowerbeds within the pavilion. Gulping fearfully, he looked back up at Cynder just as she drew to a stop a few feet away from him, leaving him trapped.

"Why?" she hissed in a horribly quiet voice.

Spyro felt a tremor run through him at the sound of the murderous rage in her tone, and it only dawned on him then just how enraged at him she actually was, though he couldn't begin to imagine why.

"What?" he said weakly.

"Why?" she repeated, with much more force in her voice, causing Spyro to jump. "Why would you do this? Why would you suddenly try and destroy everything that we'd gained? Why!"

Spyro was utterly stunned, unable to grasp what was being said to him. What did she mean, that he was trying to destroy everything? It didn't make any sense!

But what also caught him off guard was the tone of deep-seeded anguish that he had suddenly been able to detect in Cynder's voice behind the fury, and it was only then that he noticed the glistening of tears in her eyes, betraying an inner turmoil that he had never previously imagined.

But what did that have to do with him?

"What...what do you mean, why I would...?" he stammered haltingly. "I don't under—"

"Don't play stupid with me, Spyro!" Cynder shrieked, so suddenly that Spyro was badly jolted and nearly stumbled to the ground, his heart pounding furiously. "I want to know what could make you turn against everything you used to care for! I want to know why you're really attacking this city!"

Spyro gasped, horrified.

_She thinks _I'm _doing this?_ he demanded inwardly. _She can't really believe that I would do that!_

"But, Cynder—" he said shakily, pleadingly, only to get cut off by her again.

"And don't give me that load of crap you told me in the arena!" she snapped. "It has to be more than that! How long have you really had this power lust inside you? Was it since we defeated Malefor? Was it before that? Have you always had it, and you've just been lying to us all along? I need to know!"

She had resumed stalking toward him, and Spyro shrank back fearfully as she leaned her face in close to his, eyes blazing with rage and fangs glinting in the ominous glow of the fires around them. She lowered her voice until it was little more than a hate-filled whisper.

"I need to know if the dragon I fell in love with ever even existed at all."

Spyro's eyes widened in dismay and shock, reeling as he tried to make sense of her words, which came in such a venomous tone that it sent a tremor through him, and he felt a fear unlike any he had felt before when he gazed into her burning, narrowed slits for eyes.

"Cynder, please," he begged. "I don't know what you're talking about. Come on, you know me!"

Cynder's eyes went wide with shock, but then Spyro felt a surge of dread when his words seemed to have the opposite effect he had been hoping for. With a scream of rage Cynder lashed out with her talons faster than Spyro could blink, and he shouted in pain as he felt her razor-sharp claws tearing into his cheek. Then, while he was still too stunned to move or even think, he felt her jaws clamp down around his neck before she spun around and, with rage-fuelled strength, hurled him back through the air into the centre of the pavilion, where he landed roughly on the stone ground and scrambled frantically to his feet.

Spyro reached a paw up to his neck, where the marks from her fangs were stinging bitterly, but there was no blood, just deep marks in his scales. The three slash marks in his cheek were slowly seeping blood, however, and he winced as a twinge of pain shot up from them.

"I thought I knew you!" Cynder roared furiously as she rounded on him again, beginning to circle around him like a predator with cornered prey. "But obviously I was wrong, because I never thought you could turn out like this! You're no different than _he _was!"

Spyro flinched as if he had been physically struck, speechless in the face of that horrible accusation. No one had ever said anything so hurtful to him before. How could she say that he was like Malefor? He hadn't even done anything!

"Cynder, you have to listen to me!" he said desperately. "I'm not the one doing this! How could you even think that?"

Fear exploded through him when Cynder uttered another rage-filled shriek and leapt at him. He had no chance to defend himself before she crashed into his flank, bowling him over and proceeding to deliver three savage blows to his gut, his left flank and his head. Then he felt her weight disappear from on top of him, only to feel a devastating impact on his stomach as the black dragoness burst up from the shadows underneath him, knocking him up into the air with a strangled gasp of pain.

Barely an instant later he cried out when he felt her tail slam into him full force, wincing as the bladed tip cut a shallow gash across his chest, leaving a thin bloody line on his golden scales. He crashed limply to the ground and began struggling to get his feet under him, severely winded by Cynder's attack.

"Do you really think I'm going to fall for that?" she demanded furiously, stalking toward him once more as he fought to regain his balance. "After what you've done, you think you can fool me? Have you forgotten that I was there?"

"Where?" Spyro gasped frantically. "I don't know what you're talking about! I wasn't here!"

"Stop lying to me!" Cynder shrieked, unleashing a vicious blast of her wind element and knocking him several feet back along the stone walkway. Then, before he could get up again, she pounced on him and began tearing mercilessly at him with her talons, battering him relentlessly. Trembling from the pain and confusion that were threatening to smother him under their weight, Spyro could do nothing more than curl up into a tight ball, trying to cover as much of his body from the onslaught as he could.

"I trusted you!" Cynder roared, her voice becoming hoarser and tears of rage and pain streaming from her eyes. "I trusted you, Spyro! I thought you were different, that you were special, but what do you do? You become the exact thing we fought so hard against! How could you? How could you just throw away everything we worked for? Tell me!"

Her final shout was accompanied by a savage kick to his flank, and Spyro was sent tumbling across the stone once again. When he finally came to rest he was unable to move for a long moment, groaning weakly as throbbing pain filled his entire being, both physical and deeper.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. After being missing for three weeks he had thought that his reunion with Cynder would have been a joyful occasion, but now she was attacking him like she wanted him dead, blaming him for something that he didn't do, just like he had been blamed in the mountain village. The one source of comfort that he had clung to so desperately while imprisoned was gone. The one dragoness that he had thought would believe him no matter what had turned against him. It was too much for him to bear.

"Answer me!" Cynder cried desperately, and Spyro finally looked up to see her standing a few metres away in a low stance, glaring at him with pure hatred in her moist eyes, her entire body trembling with fury. "How could you do this?"

"I didn't!" Spyro pleaded, feeling helpless to make her believe him. "Please, Cynder, you have to believe me! I would never do anything to hurt you like this!"

"Then what do you call this?" She demanded furiously, turning her body to the side and lifting her right wing, and Spyro gasped, his eyes growing wide, when he finally saw the long pale scar that stretched completely around her right flank. "Have you forgotten already what you did to me?"

Spyro was horrified, both by the sight of the wound that Cynder had sustained and by the fact that she was blaming him for it. Weakly, he stammered, "N-no, this is a mistake! I didn't do that! I—"

He was cut short when Cynder roared and suddenly shot her head forward, spitting a glob of bright green poison straight at him. Seized by pure horror, Spyro let out a frantic cry and tried to dodge out of the way but wasn't fast enough. Most of the poison splattered against the stone where he had just been standing, but a large glob of it struck the top of his left foreleg and Spyro let out an agonized scream as the lethal venom began eating away at his scales. It took all of his strength of will to keep from clapping his right forepaw over the wound, knowing that such an action would only spread the poison onto the pad of his paw and cause more pain than before.

_I can't believe she did that!_ he exclaimed inwardly as he looked down at the frothing green fluid that at that very moment was slowly burning through his flesh, causing him more pain than he had ever experienced before. It was almost unbearable, making it next to impossible to put any weight on his left foreleg at all.

Just at that moment he heard another roar from Cynder and looked up just in time to see her lunging for him again, talons outstretched for his throat, and with a startled cry he spun clumsily away from her, narrowly avoiding getting caught in her grasp.

"Cynder, stop!" he cried desperately as he dodged another swipe of her talons, backing unsteadily away from her as she advanced. "Please, listen to me!"

"No!" she shouted back. "I'm not listening to any more of your lies! You're not the dragon I knew! You're a monster, just like _he_ was, and you deserve the same fate!"

Spyro faltered, a cold swell of horror and realization sweeping over him at those words, but even as Cynder continued to attack him he knew he didn't have it in him to fight back. A sense of despair overwhelmed him, sapping his will to defend himself.

_Why is this happening? _he thought in anguish. _Why will no one listen to me anymore?_

As he dodged under another swing of Cynder's tail, it seemed as though the black dragoness had finally reached the end of her patience when it came to fighting him, and before Spyro could react she rounded on him and unleashed an ear-splitting shriek, her eyes blazing with a bright crimson light and rippling waves of horrible red energy bursting from her jaws, enveloping him in an instant. Pure, unfathomable terror unlike anything he had ever experienced or imagined before exploded through his entire being, filling his soul and rooting him to the spot, obliterating all thought and reason from his mind and leaving him a frozen, trembling shell.

Cynder began stalking toward him with an air of deadly purpose, her eyes still shining with residual energy from her fear attack, and while she looked no different than before, to Spyro she had suddenly become the most absolutely terrifying thing he had ever laid eyes on. He tried to scramble away, to run, to escape, but he found that his limbs wouldn't obey him.

When she was only a couple of feet away from him Cynder drew to a halt and just stood there for a moment, glaring down at him as he trembled helplessly at her feet with a look of absolute loathing in her expression.

"I won't let you destroy everything we fought for," she said darkly, the hatred in her voice sending fresh jolts of horror through him.

Then, almost as if in slow motion, Cynder turned her body and lifted her tail up high, the deadly blade on its tip glinting with reflected light from the blazing fires that were consuming the city. Spyro felt his eyes widen in terror and despair when he realized what was about to happen.

"C-Cynder, p-p-please..." he begged feebly in no more than a whisper, somehow managing to force the words out past the fear that had left him paralyzed.

She didn't reply. Her face set in a snarl, tears glinting in her burning eyes and streaming down her cheeks, she tensed her body in preparation to deliver her killing strike.

_No!_ Spyro shouted in his mind. _No, not like this! Cynder, please, don't!_

A blur of white streaked in from out of nowhere, darting between Spyro and Cynder mere instants before she plunged her tail forward, and a second later the world around Spyro became consumed in a blinding flash of pure white light, burning into his eyes and sending a jolt through his entire being. Spyro cried out in pain and snapped his eyes tightly shut, jerking back and lifting his right forepaw to his eyes, and he could hear Cynder uttering a similar pained exclamation. Then, suddenly, he felt something grab his shoulder and yank him forward, dragging him along to where he did not know.

"Come on!" a familiar voice urged him frantically. "Spyro, come on! Run!"

"F-Flash?" Spyro stuttered weakly, blinking his eyes but finding that he was still unable to see past the white glare that had settled over his vision.

"Yeah, now move!" the younger dragon shouted at him. "This way!"

Spyro didn't protest any more, simply allowing himself to be guided blindly down the streets, feeling strangely dazed and hollow, but most of all hurt beyond all belief as an image of Cynder flashed in his mind, standing over him and ready to end his life. The dragoness he loved had been mere seconds away from killing him, and that thought filled him with a feeling of anguish and despair that words couldn't begin to describe, rendering all else meaningless as he limped mindlessly after the young white dragon that was guiding him...

***.*.***

Reeling from shock and surprise at the sudden burst of light, it took Cynder several long moments to force her vision to clear, blinking incessantly and rubbing at her stinging eyes with the back of a forepaw. For a long time all she was able to see was a flat white glare, and her head felt like someone had jabbed their talons through her eye sockets.

_What in the name of the Ancestors _was_ that?_ she demanded in her mind.

Finally the glare in her vision began to subside, and Cynder squinted as she tried to make the world around her fall into focus. What she eventually saw was nothing but an empty garden pavilion surrounding her. While she had been blinded, Spyro had disappeared.

A surge of bitter anger and frustration claimed her when she was hit by the realization that he had escaped her, and that she now had no idea where in the city he might be or where he was headed. With a furious cry she slammed a balled forepaw against the ground.

"Damn!"

She found herself filled with equal parts rage and grief, and the intensity of the feelings was causing her to tremble periodically along the length of her body. Her eyes were gradually drawn to the patch of venom that stained the rocky pathway a few feet away from her, hissing quietly as it slowly ate away at the surface of the stone. The sight of it triggered a conflicted sensation within her.

_Was I really going to...?_ she thought as if in a daze.

The answer, she realized, was yes, and this immediately caused a surge of guilt and even self-loathing within her. But most of all, it caused her to feel even angrier than before because it was Spyro that was forcing her to such extremes at all in the first place. Now, she was slightly surprised to find that she almost hated him for it.

_How could you force me to do this?_ she thought furiously. _I don't want to fight you, but you're leaving me no other choice!_

She was jolted from her thoughts when a sudden call reached her, and she looked up just in time to see a speck of glowing golden light flitting up to her from behind the cover of a wall beyond the covered garden's edge.

"Is he gone?" Sparx asked, a note of extreme anxiety in his voice as he glanced around in all directions, as if expecting the purple dragon to leap out at them at any moment.

Cynder nodded once, growling softy as she continued to glare at the patch of poisoned ground.

"I can't believe I let him get away," she muttered. "I _had_ him! This could have been _over_, but I let him get away from me!" She snarled loudly and slammed her forepaw against the ground again. "What _was_ that light?"

"You mean the big flashy thing?" Sparx asked. "I think that was a dragon."

"A dragon?" Cynder repeated, incredulous. "He has a dragon helping him?"

"Yeah," Sparx nodded, clearly surprised as well. "A little white one with a really weird kinda psychedelic thing going on with his wings. He ran between you two right when you were about to..."

He trailed off, looking extremely uncomfortable, and it suddenly seemed as if he was reluctant to actually look at Cynder for a moment.

"You..." he said hesitantly. "You really were going to..."

There was unbelievable tension in his voice, and when Cynder finally looked up at him she could see a clear look of conflict and pain in his expression.

"It has to be done, Sparx," she told him grimly. "You know that."

Sparx sighed dejectedly. "Yeah, I know..." He then looked around again. "So what do we do now? How are we going to find him?"

Cynder didn't respond immediately. Instead, she slowly let her gaze return to the poison on the ground, a grim feeling settling over her.

"He's not going to get far," she said finally. "I managed to hit him with some of my poison. Once it hits his blood..."

Sparx faltered, and he turned a horrified gaze on the black dragoness.

"You _poisoned_ him?" he exclaimed.

"Sparx..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he grumbled quickly. "It has to be done. But still, poison..."

He let out a mournful sigh, and Cynder felt a swell of sympathy when she saw the turmoil he was in. She couldn't blame him; Spyro was his brother, after all. However this thought only caused yet another twinge of anger within her, to think that Spyro was so far gone that he could cause this kind of pain to his own brother, as well as everyone else that he used to care about.

A sudden, distant scream from somewhere out in the city caught both their attention once again, and they both looked out over the rooftops to see that the situation in Warfang hadn't improved at all in the last several minutes. Fires still tinted the sky red, and with the rain beginning to die down they were only able to burn more intensely than before. And all the while, the sounds of battle and of death rang out into the night, filling the air with their haunting chorus.

"Come on, we need to get moving," Cynder announced at last. "That poison might mean he's only got a short time left, but he can still cause a lot of damage until then if we let him."

"Which way?" was the only reply Sparx gave.

Cynder nodded her head to the south-east. "We'll meet up with the guardians first. That might be where he's headed anyway."

Sparx nodded mutely but said nothing, waiting for Cynder to take the lead.

Smothering her lingering reluctance, Cynder paced out from beneath the cover of the garden before launching herself into the sky, beating her wings and streaking low over the buildings on her way to the temple grounds, having to frequently alter course or climb suddenly to avoid a particularly intense skirmish in the streets below as moles, cheetahs, and dragons from Warfang, the northern city and the eastern city all fought desperately to hold back Spyro's relentless grublins, which seemed like they were entirely unconcerned with the massive losses they were suffering and continued to push against the city's defenders with unwavering eagerness.

Didn't they realize that at this rate their entire army would be wiped out, she wondered grimly? Didn't they care that by that point it was all too clear they weren't going to be able to take the city? Was Spyro so desperate to overthrow the guardians that he would sacrifice his entire army just to cause the dragons as much harm as he could?

As they approached the temple's expansive courtyard, Cynder was suddenly aware of the sounds of intense combat rumbling out from up ahead, as well as the flashes of elemental attacks of all types. The courtyard itself was still out of sight because of the buildings ahead of her, but it looked as if an extremely intense battle was raging there already.

"Are we really going there?" Sparx asked nervously, clearly unsettled by the sight ahead.

"Unfortunately," Cynder replied grimly. Then she turned her gaze toward the dragonfly, and for a moment her expression softened slightly. "Listen, you don't have to be here for this..."

But to her surprise, Sparx immediately shook his head.

"Yes I do," he told her firmly. "This is my brother. It's only right."

Cynder was silent for a long time after that, but eventually she just gave a nod and returned her attention forward. Just then the last of the buildings fell away, along with the many battles raging between the grublins and the city's defenders, leaving only a single pitched battle raging ahead of them between the three guardians, Sirius, and a single young purple dragon.

"Let's just end this," Cynder muttered, and she tucked her wings in close to her body and dove toward the courtyard, landing without a sound just within its northern edge and sprinting toward Spyro from behind. It didn't seem as if he had noticed her approach, too busy fending off elemental attacks from the four larger dragons and retaliating with even greater ferocity, and in just seconds she would be upon him. Hopefully she could catch him by surprise and end this battle before anyone else had to be hurt. Only a dozen metres left to go...

A sudden, savage roar overpowered all other sound in the courtyard, and all six dragons faltered in surprise and looked up at the noise. Barely a second later, Cynder sucked in a surprised breath when a new figure streaked in from above and slammed right into Spyro with incredible force.

The figure was purple.

***.*.***

"Spyro, come on!" Flash said urgently as he tried to steer the stumbling purple dragon through the chaotic streets, searching for somewhere that they could find temporary shelter. "We need to move!"

Spyro made no reply, just followed along behind Flash as if in a daze as Flash used a folded wing to try and pull him along faster. He seemed distant, distracted, as though he wasn't truly aware of what was happening around him. When Flash saw a pair of grublins appear in the street ahead, followed by a dragon—neither of which Flash thought would react too kindly to them now—and was forced to duck into a side alley to avoid them, it didn't seem as though Spyro had noticed them at all.

Finally, after what felt like ages of running, Flash caught sight of a small vacant house on the side of the street ahead, appearing as though it had been hastily abandoned when the battle had broken out. It looked like whoever had left it had left in a hurry—a lantern was still burning in the back corner of the main room when they entered, casting the room in a warm, calm glow that seemed oddly disjoint from the chaos just outside.

Once within the shelter of the house, Flash ushered Spyro away from the door into a corner of the room where it was less likely that they would be spotted. Then he turned to face his companion, though his gaze constantly flitted nervously toward the door, as if expecting some monster to come bursting through it at any moment.

"Are you alright?" he asked Spyro at last.

Spyro didn't answer. He was looking down at the wound on his foreleg, wincing as if in terrible pain, which Flash thought was no surprise given the festering, burned and decaying appearance of the patch of scales that was coated over by the bright green venom. He tried testing his weight on the limb and immediately gave a sharp gasp, his expression becoming pinched with severe pain.

"I can't believe she did this to me," he muttered in a slightly unsteady voice. "She actually used..._poison_ on me."

"Are you going to be okay?" Flash asked anxiously, but again it didn't seem as if the purple dragon heard him.

"She...she was going to kill me," he said quietly, his voice growing ragged as he began to tremble from sheer horror and emotion. "She really wanted me dead. If you hadn't stopped her, she would have actually done it..."

"Spyro," Flash said uncertainly. "It...it'll be alright. We'll figure this out—"

"Aren't you listening to me?" Spyro shouted, so unexpectedly that Flash jumped back a foot, horribly startled. "She tried to _kill_ me! _Cynder_! I thought she loved me, and she tried to kill me! She wouldn't even listen to me at all!"

"Spyro, calm down!" Flash pleaded, afraid that his shouts might be overheard and feeling terribly afraid and unsettled by the anguish in the purple dragon's voice as his entire body shook, despairing tears forming in his eyes.

"I thought for sure she would listen!" Spyro exclaimed, as if he hadn't even heard Flash at all. "I was certain that she would believe me, no matter what, but she wouldn't even listen to a thing I said! How could this happen? Why is everyone turning against me? I didn't do anything, but they all treat me like I'm some kind of monster!"

"Spyro, please! Just calm down for a minute!"

"How can I calm down?" Spyro shouted desperately. "I can't do this anymore, Flash! Everyone in this city probably thinks that this whole attack is my fault, just like Cynder! My friends, the guardians, Cynder, my brother! They all hate me! How can I keep going on when they all want me dead?"

Flash faltered suddenly, Spyro's words triggering an unforeseen realization within him, and he looked away as a new thought suddenly swept over him.

"They think the attack is your fault," he muttered, his expression suddenly lighting up with surprise and realization. "Spyro!"

Spyro didn't hear him, still crying out in a hopeless, broken voice as tears new streamed down his cheek.

"How could this happen? How could I lose everything like this? I never did anything! I was just trying to do what the guardians asked me, but now I have nothing left!"

"Spyro!" Flash shouted insistently.

"What?" Spyro demanded.

"They think that you're behind the attack!" Flash repeated with extreme emphasis. "It's just like in my village! The same thing that happened there must be happening here. Someone must be trying to make everyone think that you're behind all this!"

Spyro faltered, his gaze falling thoughtfully, and all at once an uncertain look came over him.

"You're right," he muttered weakly. "Cynder...she was saying things I did here in the city, but it can't have been me because I wasn't here. I was with you, or in that prison..."

"Just like when I thought I saw you during the night my village was attacked," Flash said, nodding insistently. "I don't know how, but someone else must be doing these things and somehow making it look like it's you."

"Then it's them leading this attack," Spyro said slowly in realization, "but they're making everyone think it's me. That must be why Cynder attacked me." His eyes lit up slightly. "Then we just need to find who it is that's really doing these things, and we can prove it wasn't me."

"Right," Flash nodded. "But how?"

Spyro trailed off, trying to think. After gazing distantly away for a long moment, he spoke up.

"We should start at the temple. If someone was trying to make it look like it was me that was leading this attack, that's probably where they would go, to fight the guardians."

"Okay," Flash said again with a quick nod. "Let's go. I'll hide us until we get there."

Spyro nodded in return and started to turn to leave, but when he put pressure on his wounded foreleg he gave a strained cry and nearly collapsed to the ground, groaning heavily through gritted fangs as he glanced down at the poison still burning away at his flesh.

"Are you alright?" Flash asked anxiously, moving closer to him to offer support if he stumbled again, worry and concern exploding through him. "Is it bad?"

"Not as bad as it's going to get," Spyro replied grimly as he examined the wound. "Come on, we need to hurry."

Flash nodded quickly before closing his eyes and focussing hard, rendering himself and Spyro invisible to all other onlookers. When he opened them he saw Spyro looking at him expectantly, and Flash gave a quick nod of confirmation. Then he moved to follow as Spyro turned toward the door and cautiously limped out into the open street. A moment later both dragons were airborne and flying high over the city toward the massive temple that wasn't too much farther away from them at that point.

As they approached, Flash suddenly noticed that it looked as though a large battle was raging in the courtyard that surrounded the temple. A moment later he caught sight of three very large dragons and one somewhat smaller one battling frantically against an opponent who was still out of sight behind the buildings of the city.

"What's going on over there?" Flash asked anxiously, wincing as a particularly large fireball came within inches of striking the ice dragon in the courtyard.

"I don't know, but it looks bad," Spyro replied grimly. "Come on, we need to see what's happening."

He pushed the pace even faster with an air of renewed urgency about his motions, and Flash struggled to keep up with his more powerful wing strokes. Barely a few seconds later, though, he let out a startled exclamation as he was forced to make an abrupt stop when Spyro braked frantically without warning. He twisted to the side and barely managed to avoid slamming right into the purple dragon, and when he had managed to catch his balance he whirled around to look accusingly at his companion.

"What was that about?" he demanded.

Spyro didn't reply, and Flash finally noticed that he was staring at something down below in the courtyard with a look of utter shock on his face, his eyes wide in what could only be disbelief.

"But...how?" the purple dragon muttered weakly without shifting his gaze.

Flash gave a puzzled frown before turning about and trying to follow the older dragon's gaze. He saw that Spyro was looking at the battle in the courtyard, and it only took him a second to locate the source of Spyro's surprise. As soon as he saw it his own eyes widened in shock, for there, down in the courtyard and battling the four dragons that Flash assumed were the guardians Spyro had mentioned, _was_ Spyro. A dragon with bright purple scales that looked exactly identical to Spyro in every possible way was battling against the dragon guardians in a frantic struggle, using all four elements in his attacks as only the purple dragon could. It seemed utterly impossible, and yet the proof was right there before both their eyes.

_Well, that sure explains a lot!_ Flash thought numbly.

He looked back to Spyro, but he faltered when he saw the dramatic change that had come over the other dragon's expression while his back had been turned. Instead of surprise, a look of extreme anger now dominated his expression, his eyes narrowed into blazing slits and his lip curling into a furious snarl. Then, suddenly, he pounded his wings and dove straight for the battle ahead, catching Flash thoroughly by surprise and completely ignoring the white dragon when he called out to him. In seconds he had passed beyond the range where Flash could maintain his power to render them invisible, streaking straight for the other purple dragon at breakneck speeds.

"Spyro!" Flash called frantically.

His cry was drowned out as Spyro released a deafening roar of fury, and a second later he crashed straight into the other purple dragon, bowling him over and knocking him several metres along the ground. In the tangle Flash quickly lost track of which Spyro was the real one, and when one of them managed to break away from the other and took off flying northward into the city with the other in close pursuit, he was left hovering in shock and staring silently at the point where the two purple dragons had disappeared into the city.

Shaking off his surprise, he angled his wings and gave chase after his companion and his mysterious twin, just as in the courtyard below the other dragons were taking to the sky to investigate this unforeseen turn of events.

***.*.***

"Hunter, look out behind you!"

Hunter looked up at the sudden call just before he released the arrow he'd drawn on the string of his bow, aiming at an unsuspecting grublin on the northern edge of the square in which he was standing, near the heart of the city and just to the east of the temple grounds. Just at that moment he heard a cry from behind him, and he spun around to see a grublin leaping straight at him with its sword levelled at his chest. He felt his eyes widen in surprise and dismay as the creature bore down on him, too close for him to bring his bow to bear and coming too quickly for him to have time to draw his sword.

He winced as a sudden flash of red light swept over him, and an instant later the grublin uttered a pained scream as a fireball slammed straight into its chest, knocking it back through the air. Hunter immediately spun to his right to see that it was Faren that had been the source of the attack, and he was once again surprised and impressed by her skill when he saw that she had in fact fired the shot from clear across the square, still hitting her target with pinpoint accuracy despite the considerable range.

He inclined his head in thanks, and she returned the nod before turning to face north again, spitting out another pair of fireballs and striking down two more grublins that were just entering the square from the north, her shots hitting their marks with unerring precision.

"She's almost a better marksman than you are, Hunter," a gruff voice commented from nearby, and Hunter turned just in time to see Prowlus dispatch a grublin with a quick sweep of his sword, his face set in an expressionless mask as he battled back to back with another cheetah warrior against the grublins that streamed in from all sides.

"Indeed," Hunter replied with a hint of a grin before finally releasing the arrow he'd been holding, his shot striking a grublin in the side of the neck. The creature uttered a gurgling cry before collapsing to the ground. Then, without missing a beat, Hunter spun around at the same time as drawing his dagger from his belt and slashed at a grublin that had been trying to sneak up behind him, killing it instantly. "It's a wonder she's still so timid when she has such impressive skills in combat."

Prowlus merely gave a tense grunt in reply as he parried a blow from a flying grublin before striking back with his fist, a loud _crack_ indicating that the grublin's shoulder had been shattered by the strike, and with a pained groan the grublin retreated unsteadily back through the air, clutching at the broken joint.

"Still praising the dragons, are you?" the chief asked bitterly. "I find that surprising, given the situation we're in now, fighting for our survival against a dragon that you defended with such determination." He gave a distasteful snarl as he cut down another pair of grublins with a single swing of his sword. "It would seem as though I was right about him all along."

Hunter paused and shot an accusing look in the direction of the darker-furred cheetah before returning his attention to the battle, loosing another arrow and getting rewarded by another screech of pain from a charging grublin. For the past couple of hours he, Faren, Prowlus and a couple more of the cheetahs from Avalar had been trying to hold a defensive line in the square, which was roughly along the centre-line of the city dividing north from south, and which was only a short distance away from the shelters where most of the citizens who couldn't fight were seeking refuge.

Hunter and the cheetahs had been amongst the escorts of one such group of refugees when a squad of grublins fell upon them, Faren being amongst the refugees headed for the shelter, but when the grublins had attacked and Hunter and the cheetahs had split off from the group to defend them, Faren had stayed behind as well, determined to prevent the grublins from reaching the shelters. Hunter had tried to persuade her to leave and find safety, but she had refused to go, claiming that she simply couldn't leave knowing that one of her friends was still in danger. Though reluctant to let a young dragoness like Faren endanger herself, Hunter had to admit that he was glad to have her support in this battle, her surprising accuracy and range with her fireballs already having proven most useful for them.

Battling the grublins was a demoralizing task, however, mostly because every time a grublin would attack them Hunter was reminded that it was Spyro's orders that were directing them, and fighting the grublins meant he was fighting a friend, something that caused a stab of pain and regret in his heart. Of course, Prowlus had felt inclined to choose this as an ideal I-told-you-so moment.

"You and your dragon friends," the chief snorted with a hint of disdain. "I warned you all that putting all your faith in another purple dragon was just an invitation for disaster, but of course I was ignored. 'No, not Spyro. He would never follow that dark path.' And now, here I am endangering my warriors trying to protect the dragons from their own mistake. Maybe next time a purple egg is found the dragons will have the sense to smash it before we all have to endure this sort of disaster again."

Hunter scowled and was just about to make a retort when a sudden cry rang out from the eastern edge of the square.

"More refugees incoming!" a yellow-furred cheetah in a battle-ragged, pale grey tunic exclaimed. "We need to clear a path!"

Hunter spared a glance to the east to see a group of about a dozen moles and a couple of dragon females and hatchlings running toward them along a narrow street, being led it seemed by two floating points of coloured light. The grublins, unfortunately, also seemed to notice the approaching group of panicked citizens, and with an eager cry a number of them broke off from the battle in the square and charged.

"Faren!" Hunter called out, pointing with a paw.

The dragoness looked up and quickly caught sight of the charging grublins, and her eyes widened in fear and urgency before she leapt into action, charging across the square and spitting out several small fireballs that impacted all around the feet of the attacking grublins, causing many to stumble and injuring several more, bringing the entire group to a momentary halt. Hunter managed to thin out their numbers with his arrows before he was forced to turn his aim northward to prevent any more grublins from joining the charge.

He was slightly reassured when he glanced back and saw Faren and a pair of cheetahs fall upon the halted grublins. They launched into a furious attack to defend the fleeing citizens, the cheetahs cutting down grublins left and right with their swords while Faren weaved in and out of the fray, her slender form giving her an extreme advantage when it came to manoeuvrability. While the dragoness and cheetahs kept the grublins busy, the refugees were able to make a break for the south of the square, the two points of light that had been leading them before shouting encouragement, and Hunter realized they were Sparx's parents.

"Keep moving!" the pink light, Nina, was shouting.

"You're almost there!" Flash added. "Just a little farther! Don't stop!"

At the dragonflies' urging, the group of fleeing moles and dragons put on a burst of speed and managed to reach the southern edge of the square, the streets beyond vacant of any grublins or other dangers. Once they were clear Flash and Nina hurried to follow them, but they gave a startled cry as a grublin suddenly jumped up in front of them, blocking their path and raising the flat of its blade as if to swat them out of the air out of pure spite. They huddled close together, gazing up in terror at their attacker, helpless.

Barely seconds before the grublin could deliver its blow, an arrow from Hunter pierced it through the elbow of the arm holding the sword, and with a shriek of pain the twisted creature dropped its weapon and clutched at its wounded arm. Then, before it could recover, there was a blur of red scales as Faren crashed into the grublin from the left, knocking it to the ground before thrusting her glinting talons into its neck with a shrill cry. The grublin gasped before falling limp beneath her. Panting heavily and shaking all over, Faren carefully stepped backward off the body, unable to tear her gaze away. A skilful fighter she certainly was, but killing was something she obviously was not accustomed to.

"Are you alright?" she asked shakily, finally turning to face the two trembling dragonflies.

"Y-yes," Nina replied after a number of tries to find her voice. She glanced at Hunter, then back to Faren before adding, "Thank you."

"You both should get to the shelters quickly," Hunter told them in a stern tone. "It is not safe out in the open while Sp—" He cut himself off suddenly before resuming more carefully, "...while these grublins are still around."

"But there might be more people in the city that still need to get to shelter," Flash protested, though his voice was shaking slightly despite his attempts to keep strong in the face of the horrible struggle surrounding them. "We can still help."

"Anyone who is still out in the city is likely there because the grublins have cut them off," Hunter said grimly. "It would be too dangerous to search for them on your own. However, if you wish, you can stay with us until we can start pushing—"

Suddenly his words were cut off when a high, piercing roar echoed over the city from farther to the north, long and insistent in its tone, and Hunter hesitated when he realized that the voice making the call was easily recognizable. Behind him, Flash and Nina uttered weak gasps and huddled closer together again.

At this call, all the grublins within sight suddenly seemed to hesitate, turning to face in the direction of the roar. Then, all as one, they slowly began retreating toward the north, picking up speed as they went, much to the surprise of everyone in the square. Within a few moments the scattered bands of dark creatures were disappearing into the streets, chattering and calling out constantly in their haunting voices.

"What's going on?" Faren asked in a small voice, looking around in bewilderment.

"It looks as though the purple beast finally realized that he was fighting a losing battle," Prowlus grunted, stepping up beside Hunter and gazing northward, appearing completely unconcerned that Spyro's parents were right there to hear him speaking. "About time."

"It seems strange that he would call off the attack while the grublins were still holding back our lines for the moment, though," Hunter commented uncertainly. "I feel there is something more behind this."

"Like what?" Flash asked nervously, hovering closer to the two cheetahs with Nina by his side.

"I do not know," Hunter answered. "But I believe we should investigate."

"You mean, go after them?" Faren asked in a fearful tone.

Hunter nodded.

"I suppose it would be best to know all we can about his reasons for this act," Prowlus sighed finally. Then he glanced toward Hunter. "Time is wasting."

Hunter nodded quickly before glancing back toward Faren and the dragonflies.

"Come if you would like, or stay here. The choice is yours."

Then, with that, he turned to the north and took off running down the streets after the grublins, Prowlus keeping pace right by his side. Barely an instant later, though, he heard a call from behind and glanced back to see Faren and the two dragonflies flying low over the street after them, straining to catch up to the two cheetahs.

They passed crumbled buildings, broken streets and burning fires, as well as many wounded or confused city defenders that looked toward them in surprise when they saw the cheetahs and their companions pass. However, as fast as they ran, they didn't see any more sign of the grublins except for those that were already dead and littering the streets. It seemed as though they had simply disappeared from the city with surprising haste. A few minutes later they had reached the debris-strewn courtyard where the city's main gate used to stand, and when they reached it they heard the sound of flapping wings and looked up to see the guardians, Sirius and Cynder coming in to land close to the group of five.

"What's happening?" Hunter asked as the dragons touched down.

Terrador merely shrugged. "We...honestly can't say," he told them with a surprising note of dazed confusion in his normally firm and steady voice.

Puzzled, Hunter turned to face the gap in the wall and through it he caught sight of the army of grublins gathered in the plain beyond, which had become more of a mud pit than anything even though the rain had stopped by that point, churned up by thousands of grublin feet. In front of the gathering, though, only a short distance beyond the gate, Hunter could see two figures grappling.

"Stay here," he said, glancing toward Flash and Nina. Then, along with Prowlus, Faren and the other dragons, he cautiously moved through the broken gateway and out into the fields.

***.*.***

Spyro felt only a burning fury as he chased the purple figure ahead of him through the air between the buildings of Warfang, completely ignoring the blazing pain in his foreleg and the numerous scratches across his body, his mind set on only one thing; to overtake this imposter. There was no longer any doubt in his mind. _This_ was the reason for all his troubles over the last few weeks. This dragon was the reason that everyone he had come across thought he was nothing more than a monster and a murderer, and now he was absolutely determined not to let him get away.

With a furious shout, Spyro beat his wings as hard as he possibly could and shot forward through the air, slamming into the back of his doppelganger and causing them both to tumble out of the sky. The imposter hit the ground first, uttering a sharp yelp as the cobblestone street grated against his scales. Then the world seemed to invert itself as the pair began to tumble over each other, getting equally bruised by the hard stone roadway.

Spyro gasped as he felt a hind foot suddenly kick hard into his gut, and he was thrown back a few feet through the air before hitting the ground hard on his side. In a flash he had scrambled to his feet, snarling viciously as he rounded on his mysterious twin. The other Spyro likewise squared himself to his counterpart, a bitter sneer stretched across his features.

"Damn it to the Ancestors, you're early!" the false Spyro snapped accusingly, and Spyro's snarl deepened when he heard the anger in the other dragon's voice—_his_ voice! "Everything was going perfectly! All you had to do was stay missing for one day longer!"

"Who are you?" Spyro shouted back, dropping into a fighting stance.

A dark, sinister grin slowly spread across the other Spyro's features, and in a mocking voice he replied, "Why, I'm you."

Spyro faltered, remembering the dreams he'd had before this entire misadventure began, but he quickly shook off his surprise and growled threateningly.

"You're not me!" he snarled. "Why have you been impersonating me? Tell me now!"

The other purple dragon gave a sharp laugh. "And give you the satisfaction of knowing? I don't think so. Your punishment for ruining my plan is that I'm going to leave you to wonder. But rest assured; this isn't over yet."

He turned to the north and spread his wings to take off again, and Spyro eyes widened with a feeling of desperation before, with a frantic shout, he lunged forward. He only succeeded in getting a wing smacked across his face, sending him tumbling back along the street. Then the other Spyro leapt into the air and unleashed a long, bellowing call from his throat before retreating low over the rooftops.

"No!" Spyro shouted, scrambling back to his feet and jumping into the sky, beating his wings frantically to catch up.

He caught sight of his double just ahead over the buildings, beating his wings for the wall and escape as the army of grublins swarmed beneath them, all heading for the gate as well by this point. Spyro, however, was determined not to let the other purple dragon get away so easily, and with a determined snarl he tapped into his dragon time and froze the world around him, causing the other dragon to hang suspended motionlessly in the air. Barely a second later he crashed headlong into him, and once again both dragons were sent careening out of the sky.

With a loud, wet _smack_ they impacted the soggy, muddy ground beyond the gates, Spyro struggling to maintain his grip on the other snarling dragon that was thrashing violently to escape his assailant. Spyro paid absolutely no heed to the grublins all around him, which were gathering in a group to the north and now stood watching with obvious confusion and bewilderment as the two identical dragons clashed before them.

"Get off of me!" the false Spyro roared, and Spyro grunted in pain when a balled forepaw smashed into his lower jaw, rocking his head back. He then gave a winded grunt when he felt a knee slam into his gut and doubled over before getting slammed in the flank by the other dragon's tail. He slid back through the mud but refused to let up, and with a savage roar he leapt forward and tackled the imposter into the mud once again, earning a sharp roar of pain when he slashed his talons down along his flank. Barely a second later, though, Spyro screamed in agony when the other Spyro gathered a ball of earth around his forepaw and slammed it down directly on top of his poison burn, causing white-hot pain to explode through him. Immediately he staggered back, holding his foreleg close to his body.

"You just don't give up, do you?" the other Spyro said as he rose back to his feet. "You're starting to be more trouble than you're worth! Is it too much to ask that you let everyone think I'm the real you for just a couple of days longer?"

"You're not the real me!" Spyro roared furiously. "And I'm not going to let you destroy my name any longer! After tonight, everyone will know that you're the imposter, and that I'm innocent of everything!"

To Spyro's mild surprise, it didn't seem like his words fazed the other dragon at all. Instead, a dark grin slowly formed on his muzzle.

"Well, why don't we let them decide?"

Spyro faltered, and a feeling of shock swept over him when he thought he saw the other dragon's scales ripple slightly over his foreleg, chest, and cheek, and a moment later the colour and shape of the scales changed until he bore a large poison burn on his foreleg and gashes on his chest and face identical to the ones Spyro bore. The wounds didn't bleed, for they weren't real, but they still looked very convincing.

_What...?_ he thought incredulously. _How did he do that?_

Just then the sound of flapping wings drew his attention to the left. When he looked over, he was caught by surprise to see the three guardians, Faren, Hunter, Prowlus and Cynder draw to a halt several metres away, grouped together in a tight cluster and looking back and forth between the two purple dragons with clearly bewildered expressions. Hunter had his bow drawn and was switching his aim between Spyro and the imposter, but his motions seemed hesitant and confused. The guardians all looked more uncertain than Spyro had ever seen them before in his life, while Faren looked as though she was in utter shock. Cynder, meanwhile, looked outright dumbfounded, and Spyro could see her squinting closely at both purple dragons, as if trying to see something recognizable in both of them. Just then the air to Cynder's left shimmered, and the dragoness jumped when Flash seemed to materialize out of nowhere a couple of feet over from her, staring with wide eyes out at the two Spyros. Then Spyro looked back up at his double to see that, while he had been distracted, he had schooled his features into a look of surprise that must have looked exactly like the one Spyro himself bore.

"Unbelievable," he heard Cyril mutter as he stared, wide-eyed, at the two absolutely identical-looking dragons.

"But how do we tell who the real one is?" came Sparx's unmistakable voice, and Spyro looked to see him peeking out from behind Cynder's wing.

"Sparx, it's me!" came the immediate protest, but though Spyro heard it come in his own voice, he realized that it hadn't been him that had spoken. He looked over at the other Spyro, and everyone else present also turned their gaze in the same direction.

"What? No!" Spyro exclaimed frantically, a feeling of panic suddenly exploding through him when he realized what was happening. "He's lying! I'm the real Spyro!"

"No he's not! Don't listen to him!"

Spyro could see the guardians and his friends looking back and forth between the two purple dragons, looking horribly uncertain, and he felt a swell of helplessness inside him. How was he going to convince them? He would have thought that it would have been easy to make them see the truth, but this other dragon somehow seemed able to match his tone and behaviour perfectly.

"Come on, it's me!" he pleaded desperately. "You have to see it! Cynder!"

The black dragoness looked back at him helplessly before shifting her gaze over to the other Spyro, who was gazing at her just as imploringly.

"Cynder, please," he begged. "You know me."

"Cynder, he's trying to trick you!" Spyro exclaimed. "Please, it's me!"

"Stop trying to confuse her!" the other purple dragon snapped, turning an accusing glare at Spyro.

"What? Me? You're the one that's lying!"

"No I'm not!"

Spyro gave an exasperated growl, but then suddenly an idea came to him, and he turned his gaze on the white dragon at the edge of the group.

"Flash! Tell them! Tell them I was with you!"

"Flash, don't listen to him!" the other Spyro shouted desperately, and Spyro cursed inwardly for how quickly he recovered from what he had thought would be a sure-fire way to prove his identity.

Flash hesitated, looking back and forth quickly between them. Cynder then turned her gaze toward the younger dragon.

"Any help?"

"I..," Flash stammered, looking overwhelmed. "I...I don't know! They're exactly the same!"

Spyro felt his heart plummet at those words, and he turned a panicked look in the direction of his doppelganger, who at the same time turned an identical look back at him.

_How is he able to match me so well?_ he thought in dismay. _Who _is_ this dragon?_

For several minutes the exchange continued, with neither of the purple dragons making any apparent progress in swaying the other dragons and cheetahs to their side. All the while, the tone of their voices became more and more desperate.

"Hunter, please, tell them it's me!"

"Sparx! Come on, I'm your brother! You _have_ to be able to see it!"

"Cynder!"

"Flash!"

"Terrador!"

Just at that moment, when their frantic shouting reached a peak, it seemed as though Cynder finally reached the end of what she could take.

"ENOUGH!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, causing everyone else in the plain, including both Spyros, to jump badly. For several seconds silence reigned in the night, the sounds of the heavy breaths Cynder was taking to collect herself being the only thing audible. She glared at each of the two purple dragons in turn before saying in a firm tone, "This is getting us nowhere. To prove which one of you is the real Spyro, you're going to have to say something that only the real Spyro would know."

"Like what?" both Spyro and his impersonator said at the exact same time, which caused them to glare at each other in a way that would have almost been comical if not for the extreme seriousness of the situation.

"I'm going to ask a question," Cynder told them. "And your answers will tell us which of you is the real Spyro."

Spyro said nothing, feeling a swell of anxiety and pressure within him as he glanced once more at his twin before squaring himself to Cynder and trying to suppress his nerves.

_Alright, this should be easy,_ he told himself, trying to reassure himself. _There's no way he'll be able to beat me in this._

"Alright, first question," Cynder said in a measured tone. "Where were we when Spyro defeated me and freed me from the Dark Master's power?"

"Convexity!" the false Spyro exclaimed at the exact instant that Spyro opened his mouth to deliver the same answer.

Spyro shot the other dragon a dismayed look before turning his gaze back on Cynder, who was studying the other purple dragon closely.

"That's right," she said finally. "Alright, now for the second question..."

Spyro felt a swell of panic within him, but he tried to force it down just as before. He noticed a weak feeling starting to spread through him, however, and the sensation was beginning to unnerve him. A fresh twinge of pain shot up from his foreleg, causing him to wince momentarily, and a strange, light-headed sensation was starting to overcome him. He tried to shake it off when he realized that Cynder was speaking again.

"When we were facing off in the Well of Souls, what did I say to try and signal to Spyro that it was just an act again?"

"Just like old times!" Spyro burst out immediately, and the imposter turned a frustrated glare at him.

Cynder turned her gaze on him, and Spyro felt a brief rush of relief when he saw just a hint of a smile flash at the corner of her mouth.

"Right," she said. "Alright, last question, and this is one that I _know_ only the real Spyro could know. After we had gotten through the Belt of Fire, what did I say was the only reason that I was coming with Spyro to face the Dark Master?"

Spyro jerked back slightly, caught very much by surprise that she would choose that question to ask, but he realized that it was actually a perfect question for such a situation, mainly because the true answer would be something an imposter wouldn't possibly expect. He remembered his own feeling of surprise, confusion, and even slight hurt when she had told him her supposed reason for accompanying him, but he quickly shook off the memories, realizing that Cynder was waiting for an answer.

"You said the only reason you were coming with me was to get rid of that chain."

A heavy, expectant silence fell over the gathering, but then Cynder turned her head, and slowly she gave a relieved, tender smile...

To the wrong Spyro.

"Yes," she said, her smile growing, and she began taking a step out toward the dragon that she thought was Spyro, the imposter.

Spyro, meanwhile, was standing in absolute shock as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. It seemed impossible, but somehow that imposter had given the _exact_ answer that he had been mere instants away from giving! A feeling of horror and dismay swept over him, paralyzing him and rendering him completely speechless, but then, when he saw Cynder striding out to meet the _wrong_ dragon, the feeling was replaced by something entirely different.

Starting in his core, he felt a blazing heat spreading through his veins, his blood beginning to feel like it was boiling. His entire body went rigid, his talons clenching in the mud, his jaw gritting tensely, and his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. Everything around him seemed to fade away until the only thing that he could see before him was the dragon that had taken everything from him, and he felt his very soul filling with a blazing, unfathomable, all-consuming rage...

***.*.***

When Cynder heard the answer that she had been waiting for, all doubt was immediately erased from her mind, to be replaced by an unparalleled sensation of relief. She turned her gaze to the left, a feeling of warmth sweeping through her when she saw Spyro—the _real_ Spyro—smiling back at her. She didn't hesitate before stepping forward away from the line of her companions, overwhelmingly happy to know that the doubt and confusion was over and that they could all know without a doubt that the real Spyro was back with them. The lie had been rooted out, and now all the deception and uncertainty could end.

She had only crossed half the distance separating her from the purple dragon, however, when the night air was split by a deafening, soul-chilling howl of pure rage, and before anyone could even blink a dark blur had slammed into Spyro from the right, knocking him several feet through the air with a sharp, winded grunt and slamming him brutally against the ground. When Cynder finally got a look at his attacker, though, she felt her eyes go wide and her blood turn to ice as absolute horror gripped her.

For a moment all that was visible was a tangle of thrashing limbs, but a second later the downed purple dragon was hoisted up off the ground by a pair of jaws clamped around his neck and thrown back through the air in a display of almost unnatural strength. Cynder watched, paralyzed, as he sailed through the air and crashed into the ground several metres away before she felt her gaze drawn back to the assailant.

The sight that her eyes fell on filled her immediately with dread. The dragon standing before her looked like Spyro in every way, except that his scales had darkened to an almost pitch black shade, his normally bright chest and wings tainted by darkness, while his eyes had become terrifying, almost demonic-looking as they blazed with pure white energy. Curls of pure darkness were rolling off every inch of his body, covering him in a shadowy veil that only added to his horrifying appearance, and the very air seemed to vibrate from the low, menacing growl that was rumbling from his throat.

The other Spyro dazedly pushed himself to his feet, but when his eyes fell on his attacker he instantly went rigid in shock, his eyes going as wide as saucers.

"What in the name of the Ancestors is _that_?" Cyril demanded in a horrified tone.

No one had a chance to respond before the dark, demonic dragon unleashed another bone-rattling roar of fury and leapt at the other purple dragon, who had no chance to defend himself before the dark dragon slammed into him and bowled him over. Then, snarling viciously, Dark Spyro began slashing and tearing with his jaws and his talons, spilling his opponent's blood onto the muddy plain. The other Spyro was helpless to shake off his attacker.

"Stop him!" Terrador shouted frantically. "We have to help Spyro!"

The other guardians nodded immediately, and they were about to leap forward to join the battle when Cynder suddenly called out to them.

"Wait!" she shouted.

The other dragons all faltered and turned bewildered gazes in her direction, but Cynder hardly noticed as her eyes were drawn back to the frantic duel raging just metres away. At that moment, in a final act of desperation, the pinned purple dragon unleashed a shockwave of convexity from his body that managed to dislodge the dark dragon from on top of him and threw him back through the air. The dark version of Spyro landed heavily several metres away, but hardly looked as if he had been fazed by the attack and crouched low to the ground in preparation to pounce once again.

"Spyro, stop!" Cynder shouted desperately.

He paid her no heed. There was a flash of violet as he unleashed a focussed, narrow beam of convexity from his jaws that struck the ground at the other Spyro's feet and knocked his forepaws out from under him. In a flash he had charged over and slammed into the helpless dragon again, flipping him over onto his back. Then he reared up and slammed his forepaws down on his victim's shoulders, pinning him to the ground and causing him to emit a sharp growl of pain. Snarling murderously, the dark dragon then lowered his head until he was almost nose to nose with the other dragon.

"Who are you?" he roared furiously, his voice coming out horribly warped and cold from the darkness that had ensnared his soul.

Absolute stillness reigned in the field, everyone present, including the grublins, watching paralyzed in fear and horror at the sight before them. The non-dark Spyro meanwhile was gazing up at his demonic counterpart with a look of unadulterated shock and fear in his eyes.

"What...what _are_ you?" he demanded shakily at last, only for his question to be cut off by a cry of pain as Dark Spyro shoved him harder against the ground.

"You mean you don't know?"

All eyes immediately turned on Cynder with shocked expressions at the sound of her question, except for Dark Spyro who kept his furious gaze glued on the purple dragon beneath him.

"Cynder...what are you saying?" Terrador said hesitantly. "You know what this..._thing_ is?"

Cynder simply nodded, unable to find her voice as she gazed upon Dark Spyro with a mixed feeling of horror and despair, feeling terrified of the dark dragon like nothing else had ever been able to frighten her.

Just at that moment, the second Spyro suddenly disappeared from underneath Dark Spyro and reappeared a few feet away after using his Dragon Time to escape his attacker's grip. His body was rigid as if expecting another attack at any moment as he gazed back at the dark dragon in confusion and fear. Dark Spyro let out a low, furious snarl and settled into a low stance, ready to leap onto the offensive at any moment.

"Who are you?" Dark Spyro roared again, and Cynder cringed at the warped tone of his normally gentle voice. "Answer me!"

The other Spyro didn't answer for a moment, appearing too shocked to know how to react. Finally, he turned a desperate look toward the guardians and other dragons.

"Why are you all just standing there?" he asked frantically. "Do something!"

"Don't talk to them!" Dark Spyro bellowed, his eyes flashing even brighter with a fresh wave of fury. "Now answer me! Who are you, and why are you impersonating me?"

The other Spyro gave a nervous, strained laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about." Then he turned to look at Cynder with a pleading expression. "Come on, Cynder, help me out here! Don't you believe I'm the real me yet, compared to _that_?"

"You're nothing but an imposter!" Dark Spyro roared. "Stop pretending to be me! You've already taken everything from me! I should just kill you now for what you've done!"

His voice became even more warped than before as his rage boiled over completely, and Cynder gasped in horror as the air around his body came alive with a swirling mass of dark shadows and wisps of violet convexity, the dark energy crackling around his jaws and along the full length of his body.

"Spyro, no!" she shouted frantically. "You don't want to do this! Stop, please!"

She jolted badly when the dark dragon unleashed a roar of pure fury and turned his blazing eyes in her direction, his snarl twisting into one of hatred.

"Don't!" he snapped in a voice so cold that Cynder felt all her courage abandon her. "Don't you even speak to me! You're no better than he is! You wouldn't believe me when I tried to tell you the truth! Instead of letting me explain, you tried to _kill_ me! I trusted you, and counted on you, but you. Wouldn't. Listen! You have _no_ right to talk to me like you care! None of you do!"

Cynder winced as a stab of pain and guilt struck her right in her heart, and in that moment she found that she was unable to hold the enraged dragon's gaze and allowed her eyes to drop to the ground. He was right, after all. Ahead of her, Dark Spyro gave a hateful snarl before turning his gaze back on the other purple dragon.

"Now, last chance! Tell me who you really are, before I rip you apart!"

The other Spyro gave a nervous, strained laugh before casting a desperate gaze around the gathered dragons once more. His eyes quickly sought out Cynder.

"Cynder, come on!" he begged. "You know me! Please, just help me out here!"

Dark Spyro gave a warning snarl, and at the same time Cynder looked up and faced the other purple dragon with a firm gaze, a flare of anger giving her strength past her crushing guilt.

"If you were the real Spyro, you would recognize the form you've been in twice before," she declared with a note of finality about her voice.

The other Spyro and the rest of the gathering all turned startled looks at her. Then, turning to gaze at the guardians, she pointed with a talon at the dark dragon on the left.

"That's the real Spyro," she told them firmly.

The other purple dragon gazed at her with a dismayed expression, but when only glared back at him accusingly. Only a moment later, Cynder saw flash of anger in the purple dragon's eyes and his expression twisted into a scowl.

"So, the game's up then," he grumbled darkly, which only caused the rest of the dragons and two cheetahs to look even more confused than before.

He turned a glare in Dark Spyro's direction. Then, to Cynder's utter shock, the scales all over his body began to change, and after only a couple of second the dragon standing before them was no longer a perfect image of Spyro, but rather a completely unknown purple dragon of the same age. Even in what Cynder presumed was his natural form, though, he bore a strong resemblance to the other purple dragon, aside from the streaks of bronze along his body and around his eyes and a few other minor differences in the structure of their bodies. Just then a bitter grin formed on the unknown dragon's muzzle, and he shook his head at Spyro.

"You've really done it now," he snorted. "You just had to go and spoil the perfect plan."

"Who are you?" Spyro snarled in a low, menacing tone.

"Nexus, if you _have_ to know," the other purple dragon growled in irritation. "I hope you realize what you've done, Spyro. You couldn't just let things go the way they were supposed to, could you? Our master is going to be furious about this, you know."

"I don't have a master!" Spyro snapped dangerously.

"That's what you think," the other dragon, Nexus, retorted, still with his dark half-grin. "But you have no idea what's really going on here. This whole mess is a lot bigger than you realize."

"Save it!" Spyro snarled in his warped tone, crouching low and beginning to stalk threateningly toward the other purple dragon, who didn't react in the slightest. "I don't know who you are, or what you want with me, but if you don't leave this place right now, I will personally tear you apart!"

"That seems a little dark for you, doesn't i—"

He was suddenly cut off when Spyro shot out a bright beam of convexity that struck the ground just inches to Nexus's left, causing the purple dragon to jump away in surprise with a startled cry. For a moment Nexus was almost completely obscured by a cloud of steam from the water that had been vaporized by Spyro's beam of dark energy, but a moment later the mist cleared and Nexus was once again revealed, gazing warily at the dark dragon opposite him.

"Alright, fine," he growled. "You want me gone so badly? You can have your little victory for now, then. But you've only made this a hundred times harder for yourself."

"Get out!" Spyro roared, the air around him crackling with a fresh surge of convexity energy.

"Have it your way," Nexus replied with a bitter scowl. "But believe me; this isn't anywhere close to being over..." He trailed off, beginning to turn away toward the army of grublins waiting anxiously farther into the plain, but then he turned his head to shoot one final glance back at Spyro.

"...Brother."

Cynder's head rocked back in shock at that word, and she heard several surprised gasps from the guardians and her other companions. Even Spyro seemed caught by surprise by that revelation. His glowing eyes widened, and a moment later the darkness started to leech out of his scales, returning him to his natural colouring as he stared in dumbstruck silence at the other purple dragon.

Nexus, upon seeing their reaction, gave a quick, twisted grin at the corner of his mouth before turning away and slashing a forepaw downward through the air. Cynder jumped when a bright flash of light followed a second later, and she could only watch in silent shock as what looked to be a sort of small portal opened in front of the purple dragon. Then, without another backward glance, Nexus leapt into the portal and the opening promptly collapsed in on itself, leaving no trace of him behind. Almost immediately the army of grublins turned about and began hastily retreating back to the north, eager to be away from the city now that their leader had abandoned the battlefield.

"...Am I the only one _really_ confused by what just happened?" Sparx asked shakily a long moment later.

No one answered, everyone staring at the point where the purple dragon, Nexus, had vanished through his portal. Everyone, that is, except for Cynder. The black dragoness's eyes were fixed solely on Spyro, who still stood frozen farther out into the now empty, mud-covered plains. Hesitantly, almost afraid that he might lash out in another fit of rage at any moment, she began edging closer to him.

"Spyro?"

It seemed as if he didn't hear her, and Cynder noticed upon closer inspection that there seemed to be miniscule tremors running periodically along his body, and she frowned in confusion when she saw this. Then, slowly, as if caught in a daze, he began turning around toward the city again. His motions were unsteady, however, and he kept his blank gaze directed straight ahead to whole time, as if he weren't truly aware of his surroundings. Then, suddenly, when he put pressure on his left foreleg, a violent tremor shot through his whole body and with a weak groan he collapsed onto his left side on the ground.

"Spyro!" Cynder exclaimed fearfully when she saw him fall, and within seconds she had raced over and was standing by his side. Only a moment later Sparx, the guardians, Sirius, Faren, Hunter, Prowlus and even the still-unknown white dragon had also gathered around Spyro, though they kept at a greater distance to avoid crowding him too much.

What Cynder saw when she reached his side filled her with a cold swell of dread. The large patch of his scales where her poison had hit him looked mangled and decayed, the exposed flesh underneath bearing a horrible, sickly colour that was somewhere between brown and dirty green, the flesh almost seeming to sizzle as the poison continued to slowly eat through it. But what caught Cynder's attention the most, and what was the greatest source of her fear and dismay, was the wet, red tinge that was seeping into the wound, like a sickly, pussy liquid.

The poison had just eaten its way into his blood.

A weak, strained gurgling sound suddenly emanated from deep in Spyro's throat, and convulsions were beginning to seize hold of his body. The shaking grew stronger and more violent with every second that passed, and a thick froth began forming at the corners of Spyro's mouth.

"No! Spyro!" Cynder cried desperately, a feeling of despair and helplessness crashing over her.

"What's happening to him?" Faren squeaked in a horrified tone.

"It's the poison!"

"Poison?" Terrador repeated in shock.

"Yes! I poisoned him when I caught him in the city, and now it's in his blood!"

"What can we do?" Sparx demanded, sounding frantic as he buzzed around Cynder's head, staring down in horror at his convulsing brother.

"I don't know!"

"We have to get him to the infirmary," Terrador declared immediately, but he faltered when Cynder shook her head.

"There's no time!" she cried forlornly.

A hopeless silence fell over the group at those words, and when Cynder turned to look back down at Spyro she felt her breath catch when she saw him staring back up at her through the violent shaking that had taken hold of his body. In his eyes was the most profound look of sadness Cynder had ever seen, along with a look of clear despair and accusation, as if with only his eyes he was asking one simple, desperate question.

'_Why?'_

Cynder immediately felt a surge of guilt and despair crash over her, hating herself for what she had done. Here Spyro was, innocent and yet dying by her hand, and it was a betrayal that Cynder couldn't bear to think about. If only she had trusted him more. If only she had given him the chance to explain. Why had she been so blind?

Spyro's eyes suddenly snapped shut as the most violent convulsion yet tore through his frame, and his head fell limply back into the mud before he began shaking even harder than before. The froth at the corners of his mouth rapidly took on a pink tinge, while blood began to slowly seep from his nostrils as the already-lethal amounts of poison in his blood absolutely destroyed every tissue in his body from the inside out. A wet, strained gurgling sound escaped his tightly clamped jaws, and it sounded almost as if he was suffocating from the frothy liquid in his throat.

"Spyro, no!" Cynder cried despairingly, taking hold of his head in her forepaws and trying to make him look at her, but his eyes wouldn't open. "Spyro, come on! You have to fight it, Spyro! Please! Don't give in! Not now!"

But it was no use, and Cynder knew it. She knew all too well that once her venom took hold of a victim there was no reversing it, and it was one of the most agonizing ways imaginable to die. She had witnessed its effects many, many times over the years in the dragons she had taken prisoner in her fortress once they were no longer of any use to her. The mere memory of what she had witnessed during their demises was almost overwhelming, but the fact that it was Spyro that was now suffering that same fate made it infinitely worse. She wished more than anything that there was something that she could do to help him, to counteract the effects of the poison, or even to just take his place, but there was nothing. Now that a lethal level of the poison was in his system, it was only a matter of minutes.

_Unless..._

The thought struck her so suddenly and so unexpectedly that she gasped, her eyes going wide in surprise. It seemed impossibly unlikely that it would do any good instead of more harm, and for a moment all Cynder could do was look down at Spyro in helpless indecision. But when she saw him lying there, twitching, writhing, _suffering_, she realized that she couldn't stand to just sit there idly any longer. Without giving herself time to think any more, she quickly placed her forepaws against Spyro's heaving right flank and, in one firm motion, yanked them downward, digging her razor-sharp talons deep into his flesh.

"What are you doing?" Sparx demanded, horrified.

"I'm trying to save his life!" Cynder shot back, far more fiercely than she had intended, but in that moment she didn't care.

Ignoring the dragonfly's continuing protests, Cynder turned her gaze down toward the six small gashes she had opened in the purple dragon's flank and focussed with all her might, tension wracking her frame, her jaw becoming gritted in a fierce snarl of concentration. Using her poison element, she tried to_ feel_ the venom that was coursing through Spyro's veins, and when she thought she did she began pulling it toward a single gathered point with all she was worth.

At first it seemed as though nothing was happening, and it was unbelievably difficult to maintain her focus with Spyro convulsing constantly beneath her paws, but at length her talons began to shine a venomous green as she managed to slowly absorb the poison from his blood into her own body, where it could break down without causing any ill effects. Emboldened by her first signs of success, Cynder pulled harder with her powers.

Almost immediately blood gushed from the deep claw marks in Spyro's side, and Cynder gasped in horror when she saw it spill over her paws and down his stomach, falling to the wet, muddy ground below and staining the puddles beneath him a deep red. This was what she had been afraid of; that by pulling the poison in his veins back to her claws she would also be inadvertently dragging precious blood from his body along with it. There was nothing for it now, though. He was already bleeding out, so all she could do was try and remove the rest of the poison from his body before it was too late.

Seconds that felt like hours passed in tense, breathless silence, everyone watching Cynder's work with grim intensity, the air feeling thick with their worry and fear. Cynder tried not to notice the way that Spyro's trembling was growing weaker by the moment, nor the way that his breathing was becoming strained and shallow. She tried only to focus on drawing the last elusive drops of venom from his bloodstream, a task that was far more strenuous than she had ever imagined it would be.

At last she became too exhausted to proceed any longer, and with a breathless gasp she pulled her claws out of Spyro's flesh and tried to take a step backward, only to stumble weakly. She almost fell, but Faren managed to catch her just in time.

"There," she panted weakly. "That's all I can get out..."

All eyes turned to Spyro. His convulsing had faded leaving only a weak shivering in its place, with the occasional more violent tremor running through his body. The poison burn on his foreleg had stopped sizzling, and he was no longer frothing at the mouth, but blood was still seeping slowly from his nostrils as well as much more freely from the gashes in his flank, and his eyes had become glazed over with hardly any light left in them at all. His breathing was so shallow it was almost imperceptible.

"Help me get him on my back," Terrador ordered immediately, scrambling over to Spyro's side and crouching down as low as he possibly could, not caring that he was dragging his armour through the mud in the process. "Quickly!"

Sirius rushed over in an instant to comply with the elder dragon's instructions, and in only seconds he had Spyro positions securely between the earth guardian's wings. In a single bound Terrador was airborne, the other guardians forming up on his wings to help escort him through the sky, and together the three elder dragons turned southward and beat their wings at a frantic pace toward the infirmary.

Cynder watched them depart wearily, leaning heavily against Faren's supporting shoulder as cold, numb exhaustion seeped through her whole body, praying that by some miracle Spyro would be spared...

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><p><strong>WOOO! Epic chapter is finished. I was looking forward to writing that fight scene between Spyro and Cynder for SO long, you have no idea! X)<strong>

**So, bit of a twist there at the end! What do you think? Is Nexus REALLY Spyro's brother, or was he just saying that to mess with our hero?**

**Stay tuned to find out! Until next time...**


	28. Chapter 27

**...Um, yeah, so I didn't think this chapter was going to get this long...**

**Oh well, this is how it turned out, so this is how it's going to stay. I leave it up to you as to how you want to go about tackling this massive chapter. Read it all at once if you want, or pause at one of the breaks. You decide.**

**Let's see how Spyro's hanging in there...**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 27:<span>_

The scene that greeted anyone that dared to venture into Warfang's infirmary was one of absolute chaos. Though the structure itself was of impressive size and was usually more than large enough to accommodate all the patients that might have need of it on any given day when the city was fully populated, that night it was packed to bursting with the bodies of moles and dragons, countless voices layered on top of each other until they were almost deafening.

"Someone get me some fresh cloths over here!"

"Where is this bleeding still coming from?"

"Aagh, I can't feel my wing!"

"Hurry up with those red gems! We're losing him!"

"Someone hold him down! The bone isn't set yet!"

To one dragoness that sat huddled in a back corner of the building's foyer, however, the commotion barely even registered in her thoughts. Everything around her seemed to be nothing more than an indistinct blur, faded and far away. She didn't even notice when a familiar, rose-red dragoness approached her cautiously.

"Cynder?" Faren said in a quiet, hesitant tone as she slowly lowered herself into a seated position a foot or so to the black dragoness's left.

Cynder didn't even hear her. She was sitting as rigid as a statue, unmoving as she stared down at the forepaw that she was holding up in front of her. It was almost completely red, her scales and talons coated in the blood that had flowed out of the gashes in Spyro's flank when she had drawn the poison out of his body. The sight filled her with a swell of guilt, pain, horror and self-loathing so powerful that she felt like she might simply shatter under its weight at any moment.

_Spyro's_ blood.

On _her_ paws.

In a way it seemed cruelly appropriate. After all, her whole life her paws had been tainted by the blood of innocent dragons, and now Spyro was another that could be added to the despicably long list.

It was more than she could bear to think about.

Her paw began to tremble, only slightly at first, but rapidly the shaking grew stronger as her feelings of shame and guilt expanded, practically smothering her. All at once she felt the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes, and her throat grew tight when she simply couldn't bear the sight of her blood-stained paws any longer.

With a weak gasp she slammed her paw against the infirmary's hard stone floor before beginning to rub clumsily at it with her other forepaw, wanting nothing more in that moment than to no longer have to see the incriminating shade of red on her scales. But no matter how hard she rubbed or how raw she made her scales from the relentless pressure, the blood wouldn't come off, and a feeling of desperation claimed her as a tight, pathetic-sounding sob broke free from her chest.

A soft touch caused her to jolt with a startled gasp, but when she saw that it was only Faren resting a soothing paw on her shoulder she slowly felt herself relaxing. Just then she caught a glimpse of white out of the corner of her vision, and she looked down to see that the red dragoness was holding a damp white cloth in her other paw, holding it out for Cynder to take.

For a moment Cynder felt caught in a mild daze, but at length she reached out with an unsteady paw and took the cloth from Faren, forcing a weak smile of gratitude before dropping her gaze quickly. Shakily, she began rubbing her paws slowly against the soft damp fabric, trying not to notice the way Faren was watching her with sad, concerned eyes and feeling deeply embarrassed by state she was in. She had always been one who hated showing weakness in front of others, but now here she was, a pathetic wreck for all to see...

A violent surge of emotion flooded through her, and with a strained cry halfway between an enraged shriek and a hysterical sob Cynder hurled the blood-stained cloth as hard as she could against the wall beside her, struggling in vain to hold back the tears that rushed unbidden to her eyes. A rattling whimper escaped her before she clamped her jaws shut, squeezing her eyes closed to try and stop the flow of tears as a painful lump grew in her throat. Faren's paw gripped her shoulder more firmly, but Cynder immediately turned her head away from the other dragoness.

"What have I done?" she said at length in a strained whisper, her voice made unsteady as her entire body shook from the weight of her emotion.

"Cynder," Faren said softly, uncertainly, "It's okay."

"No it's not!" the black dragoness exclaimed angrily, rounding suddenly on her companion and making her jump. "It's not okay! Spyro might be dying right now, and it's all my fault!"

"It's not your fault," Faren tried to assure her, but there wasn't much strength in her protest, and Cynder merely gave a loud, bitter snort and turned away again.

"Why didn't I just listen to him? He was trying to tell me, but I never gave him a chance!"

"You were just doing what anyone would have. You _saw_ Spyro leading the grublins into the city. There was no way you could have known it wasn't really him—"

"But I should have known!" Cynder said frantically. "I should have known that something was wrong! The whole time that...that piece of..._filth_ was pretending to be him, I should have been able to tell, and instead I let myself believe that Spyro was turning into a monster! How could I do that?"

This time Faren didn't have an answer, and in dejection Cynder turned her gaze away toward the opening to the main hall of the infirmary, at the very end of which was the room where Spyro was being treated. Cynder herself hadn't been able to enter with Spyro, no matter how much she had pleaded; with the sheer number of injured being brought in from the city after the battle, there was no room to spare in the hallway as dragons and moles squeezed past each other incessantly, bringing in wounded, leaving to gather supplies, or, in some grim cases, carrying out a covered litter bearing the body of someone that had been too severely hurt to be saved.

The only one out of their group that had been able to enter was Terrador, who had been the one to carry Spyro in and who had insisted upon being present for the entire time that he was being treated, both out of concern for the young dragon and for reasons of protection. Most of the city still didn't know that the Spyro that had led the attack against them had in fact been an imposter, and so Terrador had, justifiably, felt that it was far too dangerous to leave Spyro unprotected, and that it was far more likely that he would actually be treated and not left to die if he was there to ensure the healers did their jobs.

Sparx and his parents had at least been able to wait in the hall outside the purple dragon's room, their tiny size allowing them to wait where anyone else would have just been in the way, though Cynder doubted that they had been let into the room itself while the healers worked. The rest of the guardians and Sirius were waiting outside, meanwhile. Faren had been with them, until just a short while ago when she had come in to check on Cynder.

"He's never going to forgive me," Cynder whimpered after an extended silence. "How could he, after what I did to him?" She gave a despairing sigh. "Maybe it's better for him if he doesn't. I only ever end up hurting him..."

"Cynder, what are you talking about?" Faren gasped. "He probably wouldn't be alive at all if it wasn't for you. Without you, he would have died in the world's core, but you saved him."

"A lot of difference that makes if he dies now!"

"I'm sure he's going to be alright, Cynder," Faren said hesitantly, obviously desperate to comfort her friend but unsettled by her raging emotion. "You got the poison out of him, after all."

But she faltered when Cynder shook her head, sniffing as a number of fresh tears spilled down her cheek.

"I couldn't get it all," she choked. "I tried, Faren. I really did. But it was already so deep in his blood, and it was so hard to pull it back..."

Her voice trailed off as her throat became too tight to speak, and she curled in on herself as a fresh wave of sorrow washed over her. Faren, meanwhile, appeared helpless beside her, looking as if she was trying with all her might to think of some way to comfort the other dragoness and feeling dismayed by her complete inability to do so.

Just then, the sound of heavy footfalls on the stone floor carried out over the background clamour, and through blurred vision Cynder thought she saw a familiar form appearing from the hallway. When she looked up she felt her eyes widen slightly when she saw Terrador slowly plodding into the main foyer, an unknown dragoness of a startlingly pale yellow colouring by his side.

The earth guardian paused when he entered the foyer and looked around until his gaze fell on Cynder and Faren in the corner, at which he paused in an almost hesitant manner. Then, with a sigh, he turned and began slowly pacing over to the two young dragonesses, and Cynder suddenly felt like her heart had stopped beating when she thought she saw a strained, sorrowful look in his normally strong eyes.

_Oh no...,_ she thought weakly, fear constricting her chest.

Terrador and the other dragoness drew to a halt a couple of feet away from them. A heavy silence hung in the air between them for a moment, and each second that passed without a word filled Cynder with more and more dread.

"Is he...?" she managed to choke out at length.

Terrador seemed to hesitate for just a second, and in that second Cynder thought she felt her last glimmer of hope shattering, but then, to her surprise, he shook his head.

"No," he said in a weary-sounding voice. "He's stabilized..."

Almost immediately Cynder became overwhelmed by a massive tidal-wave of pure relief, and with a shaky groan she let out the breath she had been holding, sagging and feeling like she might collapse, to the point that Faren actually had to grab her by the shoulder again to steady her. Just then, however, Terrador spoke again.

"He's stabilized, but the outlook is still uncertain," he said reluctantly. "He is in dire condition.

Though Cynder hadn't actually been expecting any differently, to hear those words was still devastating to her. A feeling of dismay and rapidly-mounting fear took hold of her, and she looked up at the elder dragon with panicked eyes.

"How bad?"

Terrador sighed, and he shifted his gaze to the dragoness who had accompanied him into the foyer. Cynder assumed that this dragon was one of the infirmary's healers, and it was only then that she noticed the specs of blood on her forepaws. The sight caused a sick feeling to swell up inside her.

"From the looks of it, he's suffered massive internal damage," the dragoness said finally. "The blood loss, as well, is a great concern, and the fact that he wasn't in top condition to begin with only lessens his chances."

"He wasn't in..." Cynder stammered weakly. "What do you mean?"

"There were several wounds on his body that were only partially healed. From the looks of it, he was involved in at least one serious battle before tonight, and he hadn't fully recovered from it. This means he has even less strength now to fight these new injuries."

"But...but can't you do something to help him?" Cynder asked, the tone of her voice rising sharply as desperation began to sweep over her. "What about red gems?"

"We've been trying," the healer replied immediately. "But their effects are being dulled. It would seem that whatever venom is still in his system is counteracting the gems' healing properties. Barely any energy from them will enter his body at a time. As it is, it's barely enough to keep him alive for the moment."

Cynder found this news incredibly alarming. To hear that red spirit gems were proving ineffective was unsettling at the best of times, but in this case Cynder found it nothing short of terrifying. It was only on rare occasions that a dragon's body would refuse the healing energy that the red gems provided.

It was common enough knowledge amongst dragons that drawing energy from a red gem was the most certain method available to a dragon to recover from almost any injury. In severe cases there was no guarantee that the gems would heal a wound enough to prevent it from being fatal, but at the same time it was nearly unheard of for the gems to have no effect at all. In the very least they would ease a dragon's pain.

Unlike their green counterparts, red spirit gems—which in essence were simply much more potent versions of the green gems—didn't even require the user to be conscious to heal a wound, either. The energy contained within the red gems would naturally seep from the gem into the injured dragon's body as soon as it was placed close enough.

"But isn't there something more that you can do?" Cynder pleaded as she struggled to take in the news that the gems weren't helping Spyro. "You can't just..._force_ the gems' energy into his body?"

The healer gave a snort of grim amusement. "And how are we supposed to do that? There is no way of accelerating the natural transfer of energy from a gem, no matter what variety."

"I did it when I was bringing Spyro out of the core of the world."

Both Terrador and the healer dragoness faltered at this revelation, and they turned wide-eyed gazes upon her with surprise heavy in their expressions.

"You what?" the healer said at length.

Cynder gave a puzzled frown when she saw the older dragons' strange reactions, and she turned to glance at Faren only to see that the other dragoness looked just as confused as she felt.

"I was able to give Spyro energy from a green gem while he was unconscious by channelling the energy through me," she said slowly, gazing suspiciously back up at the other dragons.

Her confusion only mounted when Terrador and the other dragoness gave gasps of what almost sounded like horror, both of them recoiling slightly as she spoke those words.

"You used your own body as a conduit for the gem?" the healer said quietly.

"Yeah..." Cynder replied slowly, narrowing her eyes quizzically at the dragoness. "I wasn't sure if it was even going to work, but I was getting desperate, and..." She trailed off, unsettled by the stares she was receiving from the two larger dragons. "I'm sorry, I don't understand. What's the big deal?"

"Cynder, what you did is unbelievably dangerous," Terrador told her in a deeply worried tone that in itself was unnerving just because of how uncharacteristic it was.

"Dangerous?" Cynder repeated, jolting back in surprise. "What do you mean, dangerous? I didn't notice anything bad about it." She paused, her gaze drifting off as she suddenly recalled the event. "I mean, yeah, it didn't feel all that great, but nothing happened."

"How many times did you do this?" the healer demanded suddenly, startling Cynder again.

"I...I don't know," Cynder replied uncertainly, trying to remember how many times she had transferred energy from the spirit gem fragment she had brought out of the tunnel into Spyro's body. "Maybe...five or six times?"

The dragoness gasped again, and this time Cynder had no doubt that it was horror she heard in her voice and saw in her expression, which only made her even more confused than before.

"What?" she demanded. "What's so bad about it? I was just doing it to keep Spyro alive!"

"Yes, and risking your own life in doing so!" the dragoness retorted, causing Cynder to falter. "Do you have any idea the strain it puts on a dragon's body to do what you did? There's a reason dragons aren't told this is even possible until they have been deemed without a doubt to be mature enough to appreciate the seriousness and the terrible risks involved!"

"I still don't see why you're making this out to be such a horrible thing. I never felt any kind of negative effect from doing it."

"Which either means you had the sense to not try and transfer too much energy at once, or, more likely, you just got lucky," the healer said reproachfully.

"Cynder, when a dragon uses their body as a conduit for the energy of spirit gems, it's not the gem's energy that gets transferred into the other dragon," Terrador told her gravely. "It's your own _life force_ that gets pulled away and afterward gets replaced by the gem."

Cynder froze, stunned, and weakly she managed to say, "What? But when I did it, I could feel the energy going through me and into Spyro from the gem!"

"You felt the flow of energy, but in such a process there is no longer any distinction between the energy from the gem and that from you," the healer explained. "But rest assured, it's the truth. When you were transferring that energy into Spyro, it was coming from _you_, and weakening you more than you probably even realize."

"Cynder, there have been terrible things that have happened when dragons have tried to do what you did," Terrador said ominously. "All it takes is one small slip up or lapse in concentration while the energy is being transferred, and the dragon attempting to transfer the gem's energy could suffer disastrous consequences."

"You mean, die?" Cynder asked, feeling cold fear gripping at her chest.

"In some cases," the dragoness nodded. "But it's far more likely that you would be left crippled in some fashion, whether in the form of severely decreased stamina, health complications, seizures, permanent weakness, lingering physical pain, the loss of the ability to control your element, or countless other harmful effects.

"In the case of red gems, which are far more potent and therefore more dangerous, there have been reported cases of what has been deemed as 'reversed recovery', where instead of healing them, the energy from the red gem will cause wounds to open up almost spontaneously all across a dragon's body, and from that point on in their lives their bodies are no longer able to recover properly from physical injuries.

"As well, in almost all cases, regardless of what kind of gem was involved, the dragon loses the ability to draw energy from spirit gems ever again. And believe me, there are far worse potential effects than just the ones I've mentioned. That is why it is a process that should _never_ be attempted."

Cold, numbing horror spread steadily throughout Cynder's being as she listened to the seemingly endless list of debilitating side-effects that could very well have befallen her while trying to help Spyro after escaping the core of the world. She still didn't regret doing it, for she was all but certain that the purple dragon would have died long before she could get him to Bayside if she hadn't, but to hear what might have happened to her in the process was still greatly disturbing, and she felt a small tremor run through her as she imagined herself unable to use the crystals which were such an integral part of a dragon's life.

"But what about Spyro?" she protested. "He might die if he doesn't get any more energy from the red gems!"

"It's far too dangerous," the healer said with a firm shake of her head, though her tone had grown somewhat softer. "Maybe, _maybe_ if it was absolutely certain that he would die if he didn't receive any more energy from the gems immediately, and if we had a team of the most highly trained dragon healers available in the city to share in the demands of the process, and if they had the time necessary and a place where there was absolutely no chance of disturbance, then it could be done, but even then the risks would be tremendous, and we simply cannot afford to risk our best healers. Spyro isn't the only one in grave condition at the moment, I'm afraid, and we can't spare anyone from tending to them."

"But...But there has to be _something_...," Cynder pressed desperately.

But the healer dragoness only shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry. Everything that can be done has been done already. All that we can do now is wait and keep trying every once in a while with the red gems. If that doesn't work, then..."

She trailed off, and the bleak tone of her voice caused a renewed wave of fear to grip Cynder's heart.

_That can't be it!_ she thought despairingly. _They can't just let Spyro die!_

"Thank you for all your efforts," Terrador told the dragoness a moment later in a solemn tone. "If you could keep us informed of any developments..."

"Of course," the dragoness nodded without delay. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other patients I must be getting to."

"Indeed," Terrador rumbled grimly, glancing around at the chaos within the expansive structure. "I wish you luck in your efforts."

"We'll need it. This is going to be one long night."

"It already has been."

The healer nodded once more before she turned about and waded back into the flow of bodies heading into and out of the main corridor. When she had gone, Terrador turned back to the two younger dragonesses.

"I'm going to go and inform the others outside of Spyro's progress," he told them. "You are welcome to continue to wait here, or you are welcome to come wait with us if you would like."

"Can I go see him?" Cynder asked pleadingly.

Terrador shook his head apologetically. "The healers are still at work, I'm afraid. I'm sure they will inform you as soon as it is possible to visit him, but for now, all we can do is wait."

Cynder sighed dejectedly, her gaze dropping to the floor, and a twinge of sympathetic pain flashed through the earth guardian's eyes before he turned and cautiously made his way back out through the crowded foyer to the building's main entranceway. Once he had gone, Cynder was left feeling utterly useless and afraid.

"This is all my fault," she said forlornly again.

"Cynder...," Faren began to protest, but she was cut short when the black dragoness motioned with a paw to stop her.

She seemed to realize then that Cynder wasn't going to accept any more attempts at comfort, not when all she felt was terrible shame at what she had done to a dragon who hadn't even known what he was being attacked for. The fire dragoness gave a mournful sigh before falling silent, simply trying to offer companionship by her presence in that difficult time.

After a minute passed, Cynder let out a long, resigned breath before reaching over and picking up the cloth again. Then she resumed working at trying to clean her paws. For the next hour it was all she did, not stopping even after the last flecks of dried blood had long since been stripped from her scales and claws. Inside, she felt like no matter how much she rubbed them, the blood would never truly be gone from her paws, and so she never stopped.

It wasn't until she caught a bright glint of colour at the corner of her vision that didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the background commotion that she finally paused, and when she looked up she jerked up slightly in surprise—though the feeling was dulled and lacked the strength it normally would have carried. She immediately recognized the white dragon that had just entered into the foyer of the building, looking extremely hesitant as he glanced around at the frenzied activity all around him.

When he caught sight of Cynder and Faren sitting in the back corner of the room, a look of conflict and uncertainty swept over his expression, and for a long moment he just stood frozen in place within the doorway as he apparently debated what he was going to do next. At length, and appearing greatly anxious, he began making his way over toward the two dragonesses. Cynder watched his approach with a feeling of curiosity, still having no idea who this dragon was or how he had come to be in the city.

A few seconds later the mysterious white dragon drew to a nervous halt a few paces away from the pair of dragonesses, both of whom were gazing straight back at him with puzzled expressions. The white dragon glanced at Faren for a short moment before his anxious gaze settled firmly on her black-scaled companion.

"Um...," he said in a halting, quiet voice. "It's...It's Cynder, right?"

After a brief pause Cynder simply nodded. She noticed quickly that there were clear signs of tension in the younger dragon's body as he gazed at her, as if he was deeply wary of her. Though this caused a twinge of pain to shoot through her, she couldn't say that she blamed him at all.

"Flash, isn't it?" she said in a strained tone. "That's what Spyro called you?"

Just like Cynder, Flash's response was a quick nod of his head before he hesitantly lowered himself into a seated position, glancing toward the entrance to the infirmary's hallway.

"Do you know how he's doing?" he asked finally. "Is he going to be okay?"

The level of worry in his voice caught Cynder slightly by surprise, and it suddenly became clear to her that even if she had no idea who this dragon was, it was obvious that Spyro was important to him. Eventually, she gave a heavy sigh.

"I don't know," she told him. "They're doing everything they can for him, but..."

She saw his expression cloud with even more worry as she trailed off, and again his gaze drifted to the hallway. For a long moment she just sat there studying him, taking in his unusual colouring. Her eyes lingered especially on his chest scales and his wings, which bore the most unusual colouring she had ever seen, iridescent and seeming to shimmer every time he moved. While it was certainly uncommon, Cynder had to admit there was something almost mesmerizing about the gleaming yet subtle effect, but she quickly turned her gaze away when he noticed her staring. Embarrassed and slightly uncomfortable, she cleared her throat tensely before she broke the awkward silence.

"Thanks," she told him quietly.

Confusion flashed across his features, and he turned a quizzical look in her direction.

"For what?" he said finally.

"For...stopping me," she replied at length with a great deal of difficulty, cringing as she tried to suppress an image of the painful scene that flared up in her memory. "You saved me from making a horrible mistake."

The white dragon's own expression became tense almost immediately, and his gaze drifted away as his body became slightly more rigid.

"I just...couldn't let him get hurt," he muttered, his gaze still distant.

Again, Cynder was struck by how much Flash seemed to care about Spyro, although he seemed strangely conflicted about it at the same time, as if Spyro meant a great deal to him but he was almost ashamed to admit it.

"If you don't mind me asking," she began hesitantly, "how did you end up coming to Warfang with him?"

He didn't answer for almost a minute, looking as though he was having a difficult time deciding how to answer the question. When he finally did speak, it was with an uncertain shrug.

"I don't really know," he admitted. "It just...seemed like the only thing I _could_ do, after..."

He trailed off suddenly, and Cynder frowned in confusion when she thought she saw a twinge of unfathomable sadness cross his expression for just the briefest of moments before he turned his head away, preventing her from seeing his face any more. Then he continued speaking, though in a considerably more strained voice.

"I don't even really know what I'm doing here," he said. "I just...I had nowhere else to go. And Spyro...It sounds weird, but he's the only thing I've really got left."

Cynder blinked several times in surprise at those words, for just a brief moment her guilt and sorrow were forgotten as she leaned her head forward inquisitively. "What do you mean? Don't you have a home, or a family somewhere?"

Flash immediately cringed, and all at once Cynder realized that it probably hadn't been so wise to ask such a question. A small twinge of guilt returned, but before she could try and say something to correct her mistake Flash spoke again.

"Not anymore," he sighed. "Not since my village was attacked."

Cynder drew back slightly in surprise, and beside her she heard Faren utter a weak gasp.

"Your village?" the black dragoness repeated. Then, as a guess, she offered, "The mountain village?"

Flash nodded, which wasn't entirely a surprise—where else would he have met Spyro?

"Over three weeks ago, my village was almost destroyed, and..." His voice faltered for a moment, and Cynder thought she caught the glistening of tears in the smaller dragon's bright blue eyes before he shut them tightly. "And my brother was taken by the grublins."

This time Cynder gasped as well, and a swell of sympathy surged through her.

"What happened?"

Flash let out a long, shaky breath before slowly turning to meet the gaze of the two dragonesses again, his expression grim and his jaw tense.

"I thought it was Spyro that did it," he admitted finally in a voice filled with sadness and regret as well. "There were hundreds of grublins, maybe thousands, and they all just came out of nowhere. We got trapped. My brother and me, and some of his friends. I tried to hide us, but the grublins wouldn't leave, so Claymore..."

His voice caught again, but much more forcibly this time, and a tremor shot through his body as it seemed like he was trying to force himself not to give in to tears. When he resumed speaking after a minute, it was in a shaky voice, and he didn't open his eyes this time.

"I told him not to go, but he didn't listen. He led the grublins away so that the rest of us could escape. And that's when I saw him. Spyro..." He opened his eyes again, and when he did Cynder saw a sudden hardness in them that hadn't been there before, like a bottled-up hatred. "He was right there in front of me. I didn't know it was an imposter, obviously, and when the real Spyro showed up at the village everyone was convinced that it was him that had attacked us, so they took him prisoner."

"Prisoner?" Cynder gasped weakly. "How?"

Flash shook his head quickly. "I don't know."

Cynder felt a thrill of dismay run through her body, and she shivered as she imagined Spyro locked helplessly in some prison cell.

_No wonder he was gone for so long_, she thought mournfully. Then she cringed when she thought about how he must have felt, left completely alone in an unfamiliar village, treated like a criminal and probably wondering why no one had come looking for him. _Oh, Spyro, I'm so sorry..._

Then she realized that Flash was speaking again, and she forced herself back into reality.

"When he got out of the village three weeks later, I followed him," the white dragon said. "And when he was weak, I...attacked him. I forced him to help me look for my brother, because he had never come back to the village after the attack. He agreed." He paused, deep in thought, then continued, "Even though I still thought he was an enemy, he kept me from giving up, and he wouldn't let me stop looking until we found Claymore. Almost everyone else in my village told me that I should just let Claymore go, but not Spyro. I think...I think that's when I started to realize that I was starting to feel...attached to him, I guess."

"And did you find him?" Cynder asked quietly. "Your brother?"

Flash nodded, but at the same time another tremor ran through him, and his expression became pinched with a profound sorrow that immediately filled Cynder with a feeling of foreboding.

"He didn't make it," the white dragon croaked finally, his gaze falling to the floor.

Cynder gasped in horror, and beside her Faren did the same. A deep sadness and pity took hold of her, and for a moment she was unable to find any words to say. Finally, she forced out, "I'm sorry."

Flash nodded weakly before sniffing loudly and reaching up with a paw to wipe his eyes.

"When Spyro offered for me to come with him back here after that, I didn't really have anything to hold me back any more. Without Claymore, there was nothing in that village for me. Spyro was the only one I could really think of as a friend, even though I hated him at first." His gaze then shifted over to the crowded hallway again. "If I lose that now too..."

"You won't," Faren said quickly, speaking for the first time since the white dragon had arrived. "I'm sure he'll pull through. I mean, he's the purple dragon. He's stronger than others..."

Flash nodded mutely, and on Faren's other side Cynder did the same, deep in her own worried thoughts, but a part of her wasn't fully convinced. In her mind, it seemed impossible that any dragon, purple or not, could make it through everything that Spyro had suffered. What did he have left to draw strength from? After spending weeks in a prison for something he hadn't done, he came back to Warfang only for the dragons that were supposed to be his friends to try and kill him. That would be more than enough to break anyone...

A number of minutes later, when the flow of injured being brought to the infirmary finally began to subside, the healer dragoness from before came back out of the hall and approached the group of now three young dragons. She had told them that the treatments of red gems were finally beginning to have more effect, which had come as an enormous relief to Cynder, but it wasn't all good news.

For a reason that the dragoness couldn't understand, while most of his physical injuries were beginning to heal, his overall condition didn't appear to be improving. His vitals should have at least begun to strengthen, but if anything they almost seemed to be declining slowly. As the dragoness put it, it seemed almost as if he had somehow lost the will to recover.

To make matters worse, the healers had discovered something alarming about the wound on Spyro's foreleg. From what they could tell, the concentrated poison had done enormous damage to the limb that likely couldn't all be healed by red gems. Specifically, the nerves in his leg had suffered damage, but the healer's weren't able to determine the extent. They weren't sure if the effects would only last for a couple of days before healing, or whether the limb would be crippled for life.

Hearing this news had been the hardest out of everything for Cynder to bear. To think that Spyro might suffer for the rest of his life for her mistake...It was too much. Right then, she became certain that the purple dragon would never forgive her for what she had done. How could he? After such a betrayal, it was unfathomable that he would ever be able to look at her the same again, and this realization filled her with a deep feeling of grief and loss.

Her message delivered, the healer dragoness departed to repeat the same news to the guardians waiting outside. With her gone, the three young dragons were left with nothing to do but wait, filled with worry and fear. For hours their vigil drew on until the city outside the infirmary's doorway began to brighten in the dull, grey light of a thickly overcast morning, the sky still yet to clear after the storm from the previous night.

Then, just when Cynder was starting to lose her grasp on whatever frail glimmer of hope remained to her, the sound of tiny, rapidly-fluttering wings caught her attention, and she looked up toward the hallway just as Sparx zipped out into the foyer with startling speed.

"Sparx?" Cynder gasped as the dragonfly shot through the air toward them, flying as if Malefor himself was right on his tail. "What is it?"

"You have to come," Sparx panted, sounding out of breath from his sprint through the infirmary. "Come on, quickly!"

"What?" Cynder demanded, trepidation rising up within her at the insistence in the dragonfly's voice. She immediately began to fear the worst. "Is something happening? What, Sparx!"

"It's Spyro!" Sparx replied insistently. "He's awake!"

***.*.***

Time seemed to have no meaning. Teetering on the very verge of awareness, not truly awake but not completely unconscious either, he could make out only an indistinct, confused jumble of sensations. It was like he was lost in a dream world with no structure and no reason within it, passively absorbing what information he could from his surroundings.

He heard voices, many of them, and he thought he detected an air of urgency in them, but what it was they were saying or what the cause of their alarm was, he hadn't the slightest idea. Aside from the voices, the only thing he was truly aware of was a terrible, throbbing ache that threatened to smother his consciousness completely at any moment, its weight almost unbearable.

Then everything seemed to fade, and he could feel himself slipping, falling without the will or the strength to resist.

Another bout of alertness, but this time there were far fewer voices. The jumbled murmur had faded from a flurry of activity to barely anything, perhaps only a couple of individuals engaged in hushed conversation. However, while the franticness was gone, the note of unease and worry remained. This time he thought the voices seemed exceedingly familiar and strangely comforting, though he couldn't place their owners.

The pain was less as well, though still far, far more intense than he would have liked.

Then everything faded into darkness once again.

Finally, the third time he regained awareness of his surroundings, it came with a sense of clarity that had been missing from the times before. It was a slow process, made all the more difficult because with the clarity came a much more acute awareness of the pain in his body, and as a hundred different twinges, jolts and aches crashed over him at once he wished that he had never regained consciousness at all. How much easier it would have been, to simply slip into the void and not have to deal with this pain and suffering any longer...

His memory was all a haze, and he couldn't remember where he was or how he had gotten there. Because of this, he didn't know the cause of the terrible ache in his heart that seemed to have sucked all warmth from the world. His will was gone. All he knew was pain, and he didn't want to know it anymore. He didn't want to wake up.

But he found that he didn't have a choice in the matter. He felt a new trickle of energy within him, energy that didn't seem to be his own, and it was driving the crushing weight of unconsciousness off of his mind and spirit, rousing him when he didn't want to be roused. Had he been more lucid before, he might have realized that it was the effects of the spirit gem treatments he had been receiving, but as it was this was something he couldn't know.

The first action the purple dragon attempted was to take in a breath of air, for in his prolonged unconsciousness it seemed as though his breathing had faded until it was almost nonexistent, his body too weak and battered to fill his lungs on its own. As soon as he tried to inhale, though, he became aware of a horrible blocked feeling in his throat, and almost immediately his chest clenched and he gave a weak, feeble cough. The cough brought with it the taste of blood at the back of his throat, but it didn't seem fresh, merely the remains of a past trauma. Still, the simple motion of his chest was enough to send a fresh wave of pain through his body, especially his right flank, and he groaned weakly.

A sudden, quiet gasp from somewhere nearby reached him, and a moment later a familiar voice pierced the absolute silence around him.

"Hey," the voice said. "Hey! I think he's waking up!"

"Really?" another voice that was just as familiar as the first said in a tone of jolted surprise. There was a buzz of tiny wings as an unseen figure darted over to him. "Spyro?"

"Can you hear us?" the first voice asked in little more than a hopeful whisper.

Spyro groaned again, more loudly than before, and with a tremendous effort he cracked one eyelid open. The sudden light caused a stab of pain in his head, however, and he immediately snapped the eye closed again, wincing, before trying again to open his eyes much more slowly than before. At first all he could see was a blurred mass of indistinct colours all around him; brown, green, red, flickering orange—a torch or lantern, maybe? There were three brighter colours, as well, though they appeared to be little more than glowing dots at first; one pink, one blue, and one gold.

"Spyro," came the first voice again, sounding strained but comforting at the same time. "Come on, honey. That's it. Wake up."

Spyro blinked slowly a number of times in an attempt to force his vision to fall into focus, and ever so slowly the world around him resolved itself into something recognizable. Eventually, he was able to recognize the three glowing lights hovering above him as dragonflies. Not long afterwards, their faces became distinguishable.

"M...Mom?" Spyro croaked, his voice coming out so strained and quiet that he wasn't sure it was even audible. "Dad?"

"Hey," Nina said gently, a broad smile spreading across her face and her eyes beginning to glisten from tears of relief as she hovered down to rest a hand comfortingly on the side of the purple dragon's snout.

"Good to see you back among the living, son," Flash told him with a tight chuckle, an expression similar to the pink dragonfly's on his own face.

"Mom, Dad!" Spyro choked with a surge of surprise and unimaginable joy, and while his voice was still hoarse and weak the emotion within it was stronger than it had ever been in his life. "It's really you!"

"Yes, Spyro, it's us," Nina laughed, her voice catching slightly from the weight of her own emotions. In one swift motion she and Flash both darted down to Spyro and grabbed hold of his neck and cheek in the tightest embrace they could manage. "We're here. It's alright now. We're here."

Spyro made a weak sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and for a long moment he just lay there, eyes closed as he revelled in the presence of his family, their comforting touch helping to instantly chase away some of the terrible ache and grief that had been filling his soul. Finally, he was with someone that wasn't accusing him of some terrible crime that he hadn't committed. The touch of his parents now and the simple knowledge that they were there to support him bolstered his spirits in a way he had thought nothing would, and he quickly felt tears brimming in his eyes from the flood of sheer relief that swept over him after weeks of fear and uncertainty.

Just then he felt a soft pat on his right horn, and he opened his eyes and looked up to see Sparx hovering just above him, gazing down at his brother with a tight smile on his face.

"Good to see you, big guy," the golden dragonfly said in a slightly quavering voice. "Glad to have you back with us."

Spyro felt his smile stretching wider across his muzzle, but his throat had become too tight to make any kind of reply. It seemed as though Sparx could tell what he was feeling without him having to speak, though, and with a small chuckle he patted his brother's horn again. Then, a moment later Flash and Nina released their hold on their son and pulled back slightly so that Spyro could see them more clearly.

"I'll go tell everyone he's awake," Sparx said suddenly with a note of eagerness in his voice, and as quick as a flash he was off, disappearing through the open doorway to Spyro's infirmary room and down the hall.

Spyro chuckled quietly as he watched his brother go. After that a moment passed in silence between the purple dragon and his dragonfly parents, all of them simply savouring each other's company now that Spyro was finally awake. However, even though Spyro had regained consciousness, it was clear his parents still felt greatly worried about him.

"How are you feeling?" Nina asked anxiously after another minute had passed.

Spyro's expression immediately clouded, and he winced sharply when he tried to shift on the padded nest of cushions he found himself lying upon only to cause a bolt of pain to lance through his entire body.

"I've been better," he groaned finally in a strained voice.

"How bad is it?" Flash inquired, worry clear in his expression and tone.

Spyro winced again before gasping, "It...feels like everything's burning..."

Neither of the dragonflies were able to reply, and they exchanged pained glances with each other before looking back at Spyro again, a look of sorrow creeping into their expressions. Feeling unsettled by the looks they were giving him, Spyro fought through the pain in his body and rolled onto his stomach, which elicited several worried exclamations from his parents that he ignored. Then, with gritted fangs, he lifted his head unsteadily off the cushions and turned it to examine his condition.

"Spyro, you really shouldn't be moving around so much..." Nina protested anxiously, but she trailed off when she saw the look that had come over her son's expression.

Cold, numb shock and dismay seeped throughout him when he got a look at himself for the first time. Tight strips of bandage wrapping covered him almost from head to tail, most of them bearing red stains from the wounds they covered, especially the ones that covered his right flank. Even though bound, the scrapes and gashes all across his body still stung bitterly on top of the constant, terrible aching burn that filled his entire being.

On the inside, meanwhile, he was aware of a throbbing, strangely sick-feeling sensation that spread through his entire body, leaving him weaker than he had ever felt before. Just then he tried to shift again, and suddenly he noticed something wrong. His gaze dropped to his left foreleg, which was so heavily wrapped in bandages that none of his scales showed through.

"Why...," he stammered unsteadily as fear and dismay shot through him. "Why can't I feel my leg?"

Flash and Nina's expressions became pinched with sympathy and sadness, and Spyro faltered when he saw them exchange another tense glance.

"You don't remember what happened?" Flash asked hesitantly, as if he were almost afraid of the answer.

"I...," Spyro began, only to trail off with a confused frown. "I don't know. Everything is all hazy..."

He scowled, feeling a mix of panic and bewilderment as he tried to clear his clouded memory, attempting to make whatever scattered images and sensations presented themselves fall into order but having little success. Everything felt scrambled, jumbled, his recollections all mixed together as if by some great trauma so that nothing made sense any longer.

All the while, he was aware of his parents watching him with expressions that bordered on wariness, and the tension in their bodies was impossible to miss. This only caused his confusion to mount. They almost seemed like they were afraid of him, but why?

The sound of a paw brushing against the stone floor in the hallway distracted him from those thoughts, and Spyro looked up just in time to see a black-scaled figure appear in his doorway, a look of extreme anxiety in her emerald eyes.

The sight of Cynder sent a surge of images and emotions charging through Spyro's mind, threatening to overwhelm him with their intensity. He felt pain as he was knocked out of the sky by the black dragoness. He saw her charging at him with claws outstretched. He felt an indescribable agony as her venom splashed across his now-bandaged foreleg, and he recalled his enormous terror when he saw her standing over him, poised to drive her glinting tail blade into his flesh.

Fear and desperation exploded through him, and instinctually he began trying to scramble back away from the dragoness, uttering a panicked gasp as he tried and failed to move his body back from the door. The instant he placed pressure on his left foreleg, however, the numbness that had seized hold of the entire limb was replaced by a jolt of agony that tore through his body, and with a sharp cry he collapsed back down onto the cushions. But even then, he didn't cease struggling.

"Spyro, easy!" his mother exclaimed in a panicked tone, flying down and placing both hands on his shoulder as if to try and hold him down. "You have to relax!"

"Stay away from me!" Spyro shouted desperately, not even hearing her. Or at least, he tried to shout; his voice was still too weak for anything more than a croaked gasp to escape him.

"No, Spyro, it's okay!" the black dragoness said pleadingly as she took a number of steps forward. In his panic, he didn't notice the hurt in her eyes and her voice at seeing his terrified reaction to her presence. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Spyro faltered, and he turned a wary, doubtful look toward her, though he didn't dare to relax as fear still coursed through him.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Spyro," she told him again, taking another cautious step forward but stopping quickly when he curled his body defensively once more.

This time he did notice the pain-filled tone of her voice and the glint of shameful tears in her eyes, and this caused him to hesitate. Then he turned his gaze down toward his own scarred and battered form once more, his eyes tracing the bandages that covered the wounds marking his body. Most of them had been made by her, and his expression hardened almost immediately.

"Why?" he asked in scarcely more than a whisper, turning his head slowly to look at her with hard, accusing eyes.

Cynder seemed unable to respond for a moment, a fresh twinge of pain causing her to wince and look away.

"Why?" Spyro asked again, his tone darkening. "I thought you cared about me."

"I do!" Cynder exclaimed immediately, turning back to look at him again with panicked, desperate eyes. "I do, Spyro! More than anything! I—"

"Then how could you do this to me?" he demanded, cutting her off and causing her to jolt badly, his cracking voice filled with sudden rage and grief.

Everyone else in the room was silent, startled by the purple dragon's anger. Flash and Nina had retreated a couple of feet from their son, while Sparx had gone so far as to hide behind the corner of the doorway behind Cynder, with only one of his eyes peeking out past the wall. Spyro, meanwhile, wasn't aware of any of this as he glared at the black dragoness.

"Spyro, I'm sorry," she said weakly, tears welling up in her eyes as she struggled to hold his burning gaze. "I—"

"Sorry?" Spyro blurted in disbelief. "You're _sorry_? _You were trying to kill me!_ You think saying you're _sorry_ makes it better?"

"No, I know it doesn't," she choked, shaking her head quickly. "And I know I can't expect you to forgive me. I probably wouldn't either. Please, Spyro, I just—"

"Just what?" Spyro snapped. "What, Cynder? What kind of explanation could you possibly have for this?"

"I thought you were trying to overrun the city!" Cynder exclaimed despairingly. "I didn't know what else to do!"

Spyro was stunned for a short moment, but then a swell of hurt and anger claimed him in their crushing grip. His gaze hardened even more, while his voice took on a slightly more desperate tone.

"You could have listened to me!" he said. "You could have let me explain, but you never even gave me a chance!"

"Spyro, I'm sorry!" Cynder cried, her voice growing hoarse and sounding more like a sob with every moment that passed. "You have no idea how scared and confused we all were! We thought we were losing you to greed for power! We didn't think we had a choice!"

"How could you even think I would do something like that?" Spyro demanded, grief colouring his tone. "How could you trust me so little that you could think I would ever do something like attack the city?"

"Because we saw you do it!"

Spyro faltered as another surge of memories fell into place: a purple dragon who looked exactly like him, leading the grublins as he tried to flee the city; Cynder, moving out to meet his copy instead of him beyond the wall of the city. A swell of pain unlike any other tore through him.

"How could you not tell that it wasn't really me?" he asked in a quiet, broken voice. "I thought you knew me. I thought you cared more than that."

Cynder gasped weakly, recoiling, and only a second later a look of terrible shame and grief flooded into her eyes. A strained sob broke free from her chest, and she closed her eyes tightly as fresh tears poured free from her, unable to bear meeting Spyro's shattered gaze any longer.

"You can't blame her, son," Flash said quietly in an attempt to intervene. "She wasn't the only one. Whoever this dragon was, he fooled all of us."

"It was all a terrible mistake," Nina added, trying to sound soothing. "But it's over now."

But their words had the opposite effect that they had been hoping they would have, and they seemed to realize this when Spyro turned to look up at them with eyes full of terrible shock and dismay, a feeling almost akin to horror surging through him. A torrent of emotion more powerful and more painful than any he had ever experienced in his life broke free within him in that moment, threatening to consume him in its raging depths.

"So, you're saying that _nobody_ can tell me apart from some fake?" he cried in anguish, betrayal filling his soul. "That all it takes is for some dragon who can somehow make himself look like me to say a few lies, and everyone I though cared about me will believe him without any doubts? Is there _no one_ that believes in me at all anymore? Doesn't anyone have any faith in me? Or am I just something that everyone secretly fears because they're afraid I might suddenly turn into another Malefor!"

"Spyro, that's not true!" Nina exclaimed, panicked by her son's despair.

"_Then why wouldn't anyone believe me?_" Spyro roared desperately. "Why didn't any of you realize something was wrong? I spent _three weeks_ locked in a prison cell, waiting for someone to come for me and tell everyone that I wasn't a monster and that I was innocent! But you were all too busy buying the lies of some..._fraud_ to realize that I needed help, and plotting how to kill me when I came back!"

Flash and Nina drew back with weak gasps, and in the doorway Sparx retreated even farther behind the corner. Cynder, meanwhile, let out a broken sob and turned her gaze away again, curling in on herself and shuddering under the weight of her shame. Spyro, however, was too overwhelmed by his own feelings of grief and betrayal to be moved by the sight of her pain.

"How could you?" he cried, his voice cracking from despair. "How could you all turn on me? My family? My friends? _You_?" His last word was directed at Cynder, but she was still unable to open her eyes to look at him. "I needed you, and you never came! Why didn't you come for me? _Where were you?_"

No reply came, only the sound of her whimpering.

"What is going on in here?" a new voice demanded suddenly, and a pale yellow-scaled healer dragoness burst through the doorway of the room with a look of shock and bewilderment on her face, apparently having heard Spyro's despairing cries from down the hall.

"None of you really care about me!" Spyro shouted, completely ignoring the newcomer, bitter tears streaming down his face. "If I mattered at all to you, you wouldn't have let any of this happen! You don't care!"

"All of you, out!" the healer snapped immediately, turning a stern glare on the dragonflies in the room and Cynder when she saw the state Spyro was in. "Right now! I don't know what's going here, but he'll never recover if he's this worked up! Out! Move!"

They complied in an instant, retreating from the room with extreme haste and soon disappearing down the hall, shooting remorseful glances over their shoulders as they left, except for Cynder whose gaze never left the floor, her strained whimpering fading quickly into the distance. Once she was sure they had gone, the healer turned a worried gaze down toward the sobbing purple dragon sprawled limply out on his cushions, utterly shattered.

"Is there anything you need?" she asked softly.

"Just leave me alone!" Spyro cried hoarsely.

With a sad look in her eyes, the dragon healer gave a quiet sigh before turning about and pacing quietly out of the room, leaving Spyro whimpering brokenly atop his cushions, the pain in his body paling in comparison to the pain inside him, feeling utterly alone in the world and wishing once again that he had simply never woken up...

***.*.***

The rest of the day passed at an agonizingly sluggish rate for the purple dragon as he retreated deeper and deeper into himself in his depression and despair. After the healer had ordered everyone out of his room, he had simply wept uncontrollably for what felt like hours until his eyes were puffy and his throat was raw, feeling heartbroken and betrayed by everyone he used to be close to. Had he been allowed to, he might have simply given up and allowed his injuries to claim him, but thanks to the healers he had no say in the matter.

There were two more red gem treatments over the course of the day, each one having slightly more effect than the one that had preceded it, although that still wasn't saying much. Spyro's wounds were healing much slower than the healers would have liked to see and what they were expecting. The theory still was that it was because Spyro still had no will to recover. The energy from the gems could help him, but they were only truly effective when a dragon accepted them willingly instead of having them forced upon him.

After the incident with Cynder and his family, the healers decided that they weren't going to let anyone else into his room for the remainder of the day, fearing that if he were to become that upset again the strain would undo all the work the spirit gems had achieved already. However, their restriction proved futile, for there was one dragon who could enter unnoticed wherever and whenever he wanted, and you couldn't stop what you couldn't see.

Flash's visit was the only welcome thing in Spyro's day, and when he had seen the young white dragon slowly appearing out of the air like a ghost the purple dragon had felt a tremendous wave of relief and the closest thing to joy he had experienced since waking up and first seeing his parents. At first Flash had looked dazed by Spyro's battered appearance, his eyes wandering over the obscene amount of bandage wrapping being used to cover his wounds and the stains of blood that dyed the otherwise pristine white fabric a deep red in several places. Then, after shaking off his stupor, he had slowly sat down a couple of feet in front of his companion, glancing regularly toward the door for any signs of anyone coming that might catch him.

Not much had been said between them, but Spyro was still unbelievably glad that the light dragon had come to him. His presence was the only one that he could find comfort in now, and it seemed as though a similar situation were true for Flash as well. Flash told Spyro about how the guardians had welcomed him graciously into the city, but it seemed as though the young dragon was still greatly uncomfortable in the presence of strangers, and with nothing else familiar he clung to Spyro with all his strength.

Eventually, though, Flash had been forced to leave when he grew too fearful that his presence in the room might be discovered. Spyro had nearly begged him not to go, but deep inside he knew that it was unavoidable as well. Flash had promised him that he would come back soon, but he also said that if he was missing for too long the guardians, who had taken it upon themselves to ensure that Flash was accommodated within the city, would become suspicious and he didn't want to get Spyro in trouble. Without a sound, he had bent the light around his body and vanished from sight, leaving Spyro alone once again.

Hours crawled by without rest and without relief, and as the day wore on Spyro found himself slipping further and further into a depression whose depth seemed to have no end. Nothing felt like it had meaning anymore, and while the gem treatments were slowly erasing the pain from his body, the burning ache was still more than he thought he could bear. He wanted escape, he wanted release, but it never came.

By the time evening fell, the depth of Spyro's depression and misery was so great that he was almost completely oblivious to the world around him, simply lying perfectly still on top of his cushions—both so that he didn't cause any more pain in his injuries and because he simply didn't have the will or the energy to move—and staring listlessly at a pattern of cracks on the floor a short distance away. He didn't even notice when Sparx anxiously edged in through the doorway.

"Spyro?" the dragonfly said hesitantly.

At the sound of his brother's voice, the purple dragon shifted his head just enough to glance at him out of the corner of his eye before letting out a low huff and turning his head the other way, his gaze dropping to the floor once again. He heard Sparx sigh sadly, but he was too numb and hurt inside to care.

"Listen, buddy," Sparx said tensely, floating over closer to him. "I get it, alright? I don't blame you for feeling like this. I know we hurt you." He sighed, his voice growing tight. "I know we let you down."

Spyro glanced toward him for just a split-second, and when he saw the dejected and shameful look on his brother's face he felt a twinge of sympathy for the first time since waking, but it was gone quickly and with a quiet snort he turned away again.

"I'm not expecting you to say anything," Sparx told him a moment later, with slightly more firmness in his voice. "I just want you to listen, alright? I'm not even going to try and say that I understand what you're feeling right now, but is being angry at everyone going to make it any better? We _know_ that we failed you, and not just last night. And we all hate ourselves for it. But we want to be here for you now."

"There's nothing you can do to make this better," Spyro muttered with a swell of bitterness without turning his head.

"Because you won't let us!" Sparx protested immediately, a note of desperation entering his tone. "Do you think this is any easier for the rest of us? We have to live with what we've done every day for the rest of our lives. We have to deal with the shame of knowing that you were innocent all along, but we doubted you! _I_ doubted you! My own brother! And I hate myself for that!"

He gave a loud sigh, and Spyro heard him beginning to pace back and forth through the air with an air of great tension about his motions, but even then he didn't turn to look at him.

"Don't you see, Spyro? The only way any of us are going to heal from this is if we do it together, not by isolating ourselves. Lying here on your own isn't going to make anything better."

"Heal?" Spyro said, his voice tight, turning at last to face Sparx. "How can you expect me to heal from this? You have _no_ idea what I've gone through, Sparx. No one can ever understand. There is no healing from this! I don't know if I _want_ to heal from this! I just want the hurting to end!"

Sparx looked horrified. Spyro, meanwhile, turned his head quickly away again and blinked hard when he felt a tear forming in his eye, his pain rising anew.

"There's more than one way for that to happen, you know," Sparx said softly after a minute had passed in utter silence. "And you're not the only one who wants that."

"Who else could possibly feel like I do right now?" Spyro said harshly.

"Cynder, for one."

Spyro's body immediately went rigid at the sound of that name, and his talons slowly clenched against his cushions as a low growl rumbled from his throat, filled with equal parts hatred and anguish. The very thought of the dragoness that had put him in that room in the first place filled him with a conflicting storm of fury and pain.

Part of him wanted to repay every scar she had left on him, and make her feel the suffering she had put him through. To a part of him, she was as good as dead to him. But there was another part of him, small and beneath the surface but not by any means weak, that longed for the comfort that he had only ever known with her by his side, for it seemed like nothing else would drive his agonizing heartache away.

He despised that part of him, for it was weak, and he didn't want to feel that way.

"I know, I know," Sparx said quickly at the sound of his pained growl. "I know it's not something that you want to talk about, but it's the truth Spyro. I'd be tempted to say that she's even more miserable than you are."

Spyro growled again, but louder this time, and this time it was only anger he felt. But Sparx persisted.

"Spyro, you're not the only one that's had to struggle through these last few weeks. You have no idea how terrifying, how _sickening_ it felt to think that you were pulling away from us for power, _especially _for Cynder. When that...that..._scum_ attacked the guardians and trashed the city, making us think you were doing it, it killed her inside. And it killed her inside knowing that she had no choice but to fight you."

"She had a choice!" Spyro snapped. "She made it! She chose to abandon me and give me up as lost when I didn't even do anything!"

"Whoa, okay," Sparx said quickly, raising his hands defensively in an attempt to calm Spyro's anger before he became too agitated again. "I get it. Like I said, I can't imagine how you feel. But ask yourself this: what would you have done if the roles were reversed?"

"I would have tried to stop her!" Spyro replied without any hesitation, anger and betrayal surging within him.

But Sparx's reply caught him completely off guard.

"So did she. And she was left with a scar that almost killed her. Sorta like you now."

Spyro faltered, and he turned a startled gaze up at his brother only to see the dragonfly turn about with a grim air about his motions and depart the room.

Alone once again, Spyro was left reeling as a surge of confused and conflicting thoughts tore through his mind, leaving him dizzy and uncertain of everything around him. In an attempt to escape the raging storm, he shut his eyes tightly and buried his head in his cushions, willing everything to just go away. He longed for peace. He wanted escape. But it didn't come.

When a new visitor came to his room, Spyro was too drained and numb from his confused thoughts to notice. He had tried for what felt like hours to try and get Sparx's words out of his head, but they kept echoing within his mind. As he kept hearing them over and over, they filled him with a terrible feeling of doubt, a doubt that he wished more than anything he didn't have to bear. He _wanted_ to be angry about everything that had happened to him, for it was so much simpler, even if it was painful. Now he was only confused. What was right? Who was right?

Finally, several minutes later, he realized that he was no longer alone. Slowly, numbly, he turned his head to see the intruder, but when he did he was immediately overcome by a feeling of shock. However, it was quickly replaced by a simmering anger and pain, and his eyes hardened into a glare.

"What are you doing here?" he asked icily.

The black dragoness standing just within the doorway didn't reply for a long moment. Cynder seemed extremely uncertain, as if she didn't know the answer to that question herself. Spyro noticed that as she stood there she seemed to sag as if from the weight of extreme weariness, and her eyes were red, no doubt from crying.

"I don't know," she said finally in a weak voice, her gaze falling shamefully to the floor. "I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now..."

Spyro snorted bitterly before turning his head away from her, setting it down on the cushions and facing the back wall of the room, brooding in hurt and betrayal. Cynder uttered a sad sigh behind him, but instead of leaving he heard her slowly settle into a seated position on the floor. An oppressive silence fell between them, lasting for several minutes before Cynder finally broke it.

"I...I understand if you hate me," she said weakly, he voice tight, and Spyro imagined that she was fighting back tears as she spoke but didn't move in the slightest to look. "I would too. I just...I wanted you to understand."

Spyro didn't make the slightest reply, though it seemed as if Cynder was waiting for some kind of reaction to judge how he was feeling. When none came, she resigned herself to just keep speaking.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Spyro," she said sadly. "Even...even when I was fighting you, I hated myself every second of it. I just..." Her voice caught, becoming tight, and it was a moment before she could continue. "Just, after what that imposter made it look like you were doing, I was so scared of losing everything we had both fought for. I couldn't let that happen, not after all we went through..."

She trailed off, a pleading note in her voice, as if she were desperate to know what he was thinking. Spyro, meanwhile, felt only numbness within him. Still, as her words slowly sunk in, he couldn't help but feel Sparx's words echoing in his head again.

_What would I have done?_

He smothered the thought before it was allowed to grow stronger. He was confused and hurting enough as it was without adding more doubts now.

A long, grieved sigh sounded from where Cynder was sitting when another minute passed in which Spyro said nothing, nor moved to look at her.

"I'm so, so sorry, Spyro," she said with an unbearable shame in her quavering voice. "I truly am. I'm sorry that I wasn't there when you needed me. I'm sorry that I failed you. I just wish that you could forgive me." She sighed once more before rising listlessly to her feet. "I'll just leave you alone..."

There was a pause, as if the black dragoness were holding out on a final, faint hope that Spyro would stop her from leaving, but when the purple dragon remained motionless it seemed that her last hope shattered, and with a quiet sniff she began plodding slowly for the door.

Spyro wasn't quite as cold to her pleas as he seemed, however. Though most of him wanted nothing more than to hate the dragoness for the rest of his days, there was still a part of him, a small but growing part, that didn't. Conflicted emotions raged within him, and amongst them was a terrible fear; a fear of her leaving, a fear of losing her in this time where he had nothing to draw strength from, nothing to give him a reason to keep living. And as much as he was loath to admit it, there still existed a part of him—a weak, pathetic, heartbroken part—that needed her just as much as he always had.

As he heard her footsteps fading as she approached the door of his room, the desperate fear inside him surged in strength, and though he wanted nothing more than to remain silent he found it was impossible to do so any longer.

"You should have just let me die," he muttered hoarsely.

A weak gasp came from just within the doorway as Cynder quickly spun around.

"Spyro, you can't mean that," she protested in a horrified voice.

"Can't I? Just try being where I am now, and see if you can still say that."

"You don't think I've been where you are?" she demanded. "Three nights ago I was exactly where you are, Spyro!"

"No you weren't!" Spyro growled bitterly, rounding on her suddenly. "You haven't been through what I have!"

"No, I haven't," Cynder replied with a sharp shake of her head, anger in her voice. "I went through an entirely different hell!"

Spyro faltered at the sudden surge of emotion in her voice, and he glared at her quizzically. For several seconds she simply stood there, her body rigid as small tremors ran through her, fuelled by grief and anger.

"I thought I had lost you forever, Spyro," she said in scarcely more than a whisper. "I thought you had let darkness take you. You have _no idea_ how horrible, and sickening, and devastating that felt! You can't even begin to understand! I felt like I had nothing left to comfort me, nothing to strengthen me. Maybe you feel the same, but then you're still not seeing something, Spyro. _We're still here!_ We haven't abandoned you. All you have to do is let us back in, and we can help you! We _want_ to help you! I want to help you! Why won't you let us?"

"How can I let you back in?" Spyro demanded, his tone becoming desperate. "How do I open up when I can't trust anyone? How do I know you won't let yourselves get tricked again as soon as I let you near me again?"

"What can I say that will make you believe we would never let that happen again?" Cynder said desperately. "What do you want from us?"

"I don't know!"

A heavy silence descended over the infirmary room. A look of stunned surprise had settled over Cynder's expression as she stared at the broken purple dragon. Spyro, meanwhile, was struggling against a torrent of helplessness, fear and pain that was raging within him. He could feel his resolve fraying, as if he were standing alone in a barren, open plain with a hurricane bearing down on him, trying to resist its force. It was a battle he couldn't win.

"I can't go through this again," he choked at length, his expression pinched with pain and conflict, his voice becoming strained. "I can't let myself care, because when everything gets torn away again I would never be able to stand it. It would break me."

A surprised look flashed through Cynder's expression, but quickly her gaze softened and she took a cautious step forward.

"You make it sound like you have to go through this all on your own," she said softly. "But you don't, Spyro. You don't have to fight all this alone. You know that we can do so much more together than we can apart. I can help you."

"How can I be sure, though?" he asked, almost pleadingly as his emotions continued to build, outweighing his anger. "When I counted on you before I was left on my own! You didn't help me then!"

"I know," Cynder said, her eyes shining with guilt. "I know, Spyro, and I'm sorry. And I swear to you, I won't ever fail you like that again. Just give me a chance to earn your trust again. Please."

For a long time, Spyro held her gaze and in her eyes he could see the desperate longing she felt to prove herself to him again. His anger toward her hadn't abated, but neither could he doubt anymore that she truly was sorry for what she had done. The part of him that wanted to accept her again burned more powerfully, but the pain she had caused him was something that simply couldn't be ignored or erased.

With a heavy sigh, he broke his gaze away from her and turned his head down to the ground.

"I can't."

He saw the pain that shot through her at those words, and an identical twinge swept through his own being at the same time, but that couldn't change the way he felt. He sighed tensely again before laying his head back down on his cushions. Still, out of the corner of his eye he could see Cynder obviously struggling with a terrible feeling of hurt at being so flatly rejected. Tears glistened at the corners of her eyes and her expression was strained, but eventually she forced a small nod.

"Okay," she said, though her throat was so tight that the word was barely audible, and it was more by the motion of her mouth than anything that Spyro knew what she said.

Spyro expected her to leave then, but he didn't know whether he felt relieved or saddened by that knowledge—in actuality, he felt a little bit of both at the same time, but mostly he just felt empty. However, to his surprise, she did the exact opposite.

With slow, slightly unsteady movements, Cynder padded further into the room until she was standing a few feet ahead of Spyro and slightly to his left before sitting down facing him. When he saw this, Spyro turned a quizzical look at her, feeling shaken and uncertain.

"What are you doing?" he asked at length. While his voice was hard, there was no true hostility in it—he was too caught off guard for that.

"You've been alone in this room almost all day," the black dragoness replied, though her voice was still unsteady as she grappled with her emotions. "I thought a bit of company might do you good."

Spyro was a bit startled by this, and for a long moment he fixed her with a studying, almost suspicious gaze. He found that he was actually slightly disappointed that she hadn't left, for he found her presence to be terribly confusing and would much rather just be left in peace. Eventually, though, he just gave a resigned sigh and set his head down again, staring blankly past Cynder at the floor.

Nothing was said between them for almost an hour as the evening slowly wore on into night. Spyro hardly so much as moved a muscle, simply trying to release the tension from his pained, aching body, but with Cynder there this was an almost impossible thing for him to accomplish. Cynder, meanwhile, eventually settled into more comfortable position lying on her stomach in the same place she had been sitting, and while it was obvious that she felt uncomfortable with the oppressive silence she didn't try to break it. Instead she just waited the purple dragon out, trying not to look at Spyro too much to avoid making him feel uncomfortable.

At first Spyro tried to simply ignore her presence, feeling too weary and emotionally drained to bother trying to make her leave, but as time wore on this became more and more difficult to do, and he found himself glancing more and more often in her direction. He always snapped his gaze away as soon as he caught himself doing this, though, and as far as he could tell Cynder never noticed. Still, each time it happened Spyro grew slightly more irritated with himself.

_What's wrong with me?_ he wondered angrily after he once again felt his gaze drifting toward the dragoness. _Why can't I just get her out of my head?_

He had no answer, and no matter how he tried he couldn't keep his gaze from being drawn toward her.

A short while later Cynder shifted slightly on the stone floor, rustling her wings against her back, and when she settled again Spyro's gaze suddenly caught on her right flank, which had become exposed when she shifted her wing. This time when he tried to look away he found that he couldn't. His eyes had become locked on the pale strip of scarred scales that ran all the way around her flank, and as he looked at it he felt surprised by the appearance of it. He had seen it already when Cynder had been fighting him, but now that he really had a chance to look at it he was struck by the realization of just what the extent of the injury had been. It must have been agonizing it its size was anything to go by.

For just a brief, fleeting instant he felt a pang of sympathy, but he immediately subdued the feeling and forced it from his mind.

Just then Cynder seemed to notice him staring at her scar, and a look surprise darted across her expression. Spyro didn't see this, for his attention was still fixed on the scar, but then she spoke and snapped him roughly out of his daze.

"He did that," she said softly in a tight, guarded tone. "On the night that he attacked the guardians."

Spyro whipped his gaze up to meet hers, startled, and almost immediately he averted his eyes with an embarrassed scowl when he saw the way she was looking at him. Now that he had been caught, though, he couldn't pretend to just ignore her, and at length he gave a heavy sigh before finally meeting her gaze again.

"And you didn't suspect anything was wrong when he did that?" he asked in a hard voice.

Cynder faltered as another twinge of hurt and guilt crossed her face, and with a sad sigh she lowered her eyes to the floor.

"I should have," she muttered finally. "Looking back on it, I can see so many times that I should have realized that it couldn't really have been you doing or saying those things..." She trailed off with a look of great tension about her bearing, but then she forced herself to continue. "He was so cunning about how he did it though. Really, Spyro, you have to have seen it to understand just how good his deception really was. I don't know how it's possible, but in the beginning it was like he knew _exactly_ how you would act in any situation, and from there the changes in behaviour were so subtle and calculated that we didn't even really notice them at first."

Spyro's scowl deepened as he listened to her speaking, feeling bitter anger rising within him hearing Cynder saying what almost sounded like a compliment to the dragon that had destroyed everything he used to hold dear to him. But then his mind flashed back to the confrontation outside of the city's wall, and he realized that he didn't have a choice but to agree with what she was saying. He could remember his feeling of dismay vividly as he witnessed the unknown dragon mimicking his every move and expression with a precision and accuracy that shouldn't have been possible.

He found those thoughts deeply unsettling, and the more he thought about the dragon that had impersonated him the more his feeling of anxiety and confusion deepened. Slowly he allowed his gaze to drift off into the distance as his thoughts lingered on that dragon.

"How can there be another purple dragon?" he muttered distantly when his confusion and curiosity grew to be too strong for him to hold back any longer.

"I don't know," Cynder replied with a helpless shake of her head. "I thought just like everyone else that you and Malefor were the only ones."

"It shouldn't be possible. How could Ignitus have been wrong? How could the _Chronicler_ be wrong?"

"I don't think anyone knows that answer, Spyro. No one but him."

Spyro nodded distractedly as he tried to sift through his memories of the final confrontation with his imposter—memories which were strangely hazy and muddled, though at that time he couldn't recall why this was. Suddenly, though, one memory surged back to him and it caused him to falter, his entire body going rigid as shock, confusion, and even a touch of fear ran through him.

"He called me..." he murmured weakly.

Cynder cringed slightly from her own fear and worry for how Spyro would react next, but Spyro was too distracted and stunned to notice it. He only stared blankly out into space, the other purple dragon's final words ringing in his ears.

_Nexus_, he thought dazedly, the dragon's name returning to him through the haze. _But...how can that...? He can't really be my brother, can he?_

_Who is he?_

"But...why is he doing this?" he asked finally, almost in a pleading tone, his surprise and confusion leading him to almost forget his pain and anger for a brief moment. "What can he gain by turning two dragon cities against me?"

Again, Cynder only shook her head with no answers to give. For a long moment a heavy silence dominated in the room until Cynder finally seemed like she couldn't bear it any longer and spoke.

"Flash told me about what happened in the mountain village," she said softly.

The mention of the only dragon that Spyro felt he could consider a friend anymore caught the purple dragon off guard, and when his guard slipped so did the shield of anger and bitterness that he had been so desperately trying to shelter himself behind. All at once he felt a swell of pain surge within him when his mind went back to those horrible three weeks in the village's dungeon, and he cringed forcibly.

"No he didn't," he muttered darkly at length, his voice cracking. "He doesn't know what really happened."

Cynder shot him a startled, fearful look when she heard those words, and with mounting concern she pushed herself back up to a seated position and edged slightly closer to him.

"What do you mean?" she asked quietly.

Spyro didn't respond. Instead his gaze dropped slowly to his forelegs, where he could still see the faded, twisted marks that the shackles had left on his scales when they had sent their evil, torturous energy tearing into his body.

Immediately a surge of memories flooded through his mind; sights, sounds and sensations that he had tried to block out in the time that had ensued from those terrible days, most prominent of these being the agony of his torture and the haunting sound of his own screams. A large tremor shot through his body, and though he tried to suppress it he could feel the horrible pain and despair he had experienced growing rapidly within him, pushing him to the very limit of what he could endure in his present state and threatening to overwhelm him.

Cynder followed his gaze downward, and it seemed that she noticed the scars on his legs for the first time then. She gave a weak, horrified gasp and instantly shifted even closer to him until she was less than a foot away. Struggling against the turmoil within him, Spyro couldn't even find it in himself to feel angered or upset about her proximity.

With slow, uncertain motions, Cynder cautiously reached out with a forepaw and took hold of Spyro's right foreleg, gently lifting it so that she could examine the scars more closely. Though he stiffened considerably at her touch, Spyro didn't have the energy to resist and simply waited with a scowl on his features as she examined the marks. He frowned in confusion, however, when the look of horror in her eyes only increased in intensity at the same time as a look of what appeared to be recognition flashed across her face.

Her eyes quickly swept over the rest of his body, taking in the similar shackle scars on his back legs, his tail and his neck. Then, finally, her gaze fell upon his left flank, and she let out a strained gasp before leaning her head in closer, lifting a paw and resting it over the large stab scar on his side. He winced and grunted as soon as the contact was made, for while the gem treatments had finished sealing the wound it was still incredibly tender. Then Cynder looked up and met his gaze, and he was surprised by the look of confusion and, most of all, dread and a deep sadness in her eyes.

"What did they do to you?"

Spyro's eyes widened in surprise at the sheer level of worry in her voice. Then, somewhere deep inside of him, he felt something snap. It was as though the only way he had been able to cope with what had occurred in the mountain village was to remain in a sort of denial about it, not truly accepting that it had happened to him. Now, though, Cynder's simple question brought it surging to the forefront of his consciousness, and he was no longer able to ignore it.

All at once an unfathomable surge of grief and despair swept through him, and though he tried desperately to fight it, to subdue it by sheer force of his will, it was too much for him to bear. While he despised himself for it, he broke.

A look of shock and dismay crossed Cynder's features as a forceful, ragged whimper burst out from his jaws, and before she knew it Spyro had completely broken down in front of her. Like a wounded animal he curled in on himself, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes and soon spilling down his cheeks as sobs of increasingly violent strength shook his battered frame. He hated himself for showing such weakness and despair, but he was helpless to stop himself as the weeks of pain, grief, fear and helplessness came crashing down on him, a weight that he stood no chance of holding back any longer. It even outweighed the anger and betrayal from the night before, smothering them as if they had never held any power at all.

He jolted when he felt a sudden touch against his scales, and before he even knew what was happening Cynder had pulled him close to her and had wrapped him securely in her wings, supporting him and sheltering him as his pain poured out of him. At first he was shocked and wanted desperately to break away from her, but as his sorrow continued to build he found that he no longer had any resistance left in him, and so he simply surrendered to her embrace and let his tears and sobs flow out of him.

It almost felt welcome.

How long he stayed like that, he had no idea. While he still wanted to resist the contact with the black dragoness, he simply couldn't fight any more. The pain that he had tried to bottle inside himself for so long couldn't be contained any longer.

With no strength left in either his body or his will, he simply gave in to his torrential emotions and to Cynder's protective hold, the sounds of his sorrow filling the air as night descended over the battered dragon city.

***.*.***

Only when darkness fell did Nexus finally give in to his weariness and brought his army's retreat to a halt. Breathless, he flopped down on his haunches with his head hanging low to the ground, panting from the rapid pace he had forced himself and his army to uphold for the entire day as they tried to get as much distance between them and the dragon city as possible for fear that the amassed army of dragons might see fit to retaliate against him.

_What happened back there?_ he demanded in his mind. _What _was_ that power that took over Spyro?_

Those thoughts had been swirling about in his mind ever since the failed attack. The surprise, shock, and even fear that he had felt when Spyro had transformed into that dark, demonic beast was still fresh in his memory, and he cringed as he felt them sweep through him again. How was it possible that he could know so much about Spyro and his life, and still get caught unprepared for something like _that_?

As if out of nowhere, Nexus suddenly felt something pressing against the back of his mind, and he hardly had time to even recognize the touch before a bolt of pain tore through his skull, causing him to groan and go rigid all over. The pain didn't subside, and soon afterward a horrible voice filled with indescribable anger spoke within his mind.

"_You have failed me, Nexus_," his master's voice rumbled, sending a fresh tremor through his body. _"Despite all your assurances, your 'perfect' plan has been demolished."_

"It's not my fault," Nexus gasped through gritted fangs. "I—"

But his protest only seemed to fuel his master's rage, and before he could utter another word the pain in his skull increased sharply, causing a searing agony to tear through his being. He screamed weakly and collapsed to the ground, clutching at his head with his forepaws and twitching on the ground as he struggled with all his might to keep his sanity from tearing itself to pieces from the pain.

"_I do not tolerate failure!"_ his master roared. _"I was of the belief that you knew this, and that you would plan accordingly, but it seems as though I was wrong. This mistake is the last that you will make, Nexus."_

"It wasn't my fault!" Nexus cried frantically as terror flooded through him. "How was I supposed to know Spyro was back in the city already? And what _was_ that darkness I saw inside of him? You never told me about that!"

There was a long pause, the silence broken only by Nexus's continuing moans as the pain in his head persisted without any signs of abating. Then, suddenly, he could feel the crushing pressure on his mind subsiding ever so slowly, and he uttered a sharp gasp as it once again became bearable, leaving him panting weakly on the ground for several long seconds.

"_Indeed, that was a most unfortunate time for his true form to manifest,"_ his master rumbled thoughtfully after another prolonged silence, and the pain faded until it was hardly perceptible any longer. _"And I cannot deny that, had it not happened, there is a distinct possibility that your plan would have still succeeded."_ A low growl that almost sounded like a sigh filtered through their connection.

"What do you mean, his true form?" Nexus asked weakly. "What was that? Why didn't I know about it?"

"_What it is is not important for you to know at this time, except that it is the form in which his full power is allowed to surface, and in which he is the most dangerous. As to why you didn't know about it, it may seem unlikely, but I believe that it is simply a matter of bad luck."_

"Bad luck?" Nexus blurted incredulously. "Are you kidding me?"

"_I am not. While you were able to observe Spyro extensively over the years, the fact still remains that you only spent a minority of your time doing so, and there were much larger stretches of time where you were focussed on your training. As I recall, you were quite disappointed when one such training session overlapped with Spyro's journey to the Well of Souls."_

Nexus nodded, his mind travelling back to that day. "Yeah, I was really looking forward to seeing that..."

"_Well, that was when his power first manifested, during Malefor's release. Then there was the Belt of Fire."_

_When I was training again_, Nexus thought to himself, a bitter scowl forming on his face. He remembered how he had returned to the vision pool after the gruelling training session, looking into it to see Spyro and Cynder already beginning their journey into the Burned Lands, with Ignitus mysteriously absent from their group.

"So it happened again then?" he asked.

"_It did, but only briefly, so it is not surprising that you missed it that time."_

Nexus gave a small growl and his gaze dropped.

_I can't believe my whole plan was ruined by something so stupid!_

Just then the pressure in his mind spiked slightly in strength, and a low rumble from his master sounded in his mind and cut off all thoughts.

"_However, none of this changes the fact that you have failed me, Nexus. You did not succeed in separating Spyro from his friends, and you know that I do not like it when my servants fail."_

"What? No, wait!" Nexus protested immediately, fear mounting in his voice. "I can still get to him! I know I can still bring him back! Just give me another chance! I know I can do it!"

"_You seem eager."_

"Yes!" Nexus exclaimed with the first hints of desperation creeping into his voice. "I can still make this work!"

His very skull seemed to vibrate as his master gave a thoughtful growl. Then, finally, the pain subsided and Nexus heaved a sigh of relief, rubbing his temple gingerly with a forepaw.

"_Very well. If you are so certain that you can still recover this situation, then prove it. You will have another chance, but be aware that in the event that you fail again I will not be so lenient. You can count. On. That."_

Nexus shuddered violently at the malice veiled in his master's tone, but he nodded quickly nonetheless. With a final low rumble, his master severed the connection with him. Wondrous quiet returned to his mind, the pain and chilling pressure leaving without any trace remaining, and Nexus sagged as he blew out an enormous breath of relief, feeling more shaken than he ever had in his life.

_I thought for sure I was done for_, he thought shakily.

For just a split second, he wondered what it would be like if he didn't have to live in constant wariness of his master's anger, and he found himself longing indescribably for such a peace.

Then he shook his head roughly and smothered the thought before it could take root.

It was at that moment at he noticed the way the grublins behind him were watching him with extremely unsettled expressions, as if they feared he had succumbed to some sort of insanity as he writhed on the ground and shouted into the air for no reason that they could see. A surge of anger and embarrassment filled him, and he gave a sharp snarl that caused all the grublins to jump back in alarm.

"Hurry up," he snapped. "We've got work to do. I think it's about time I paid another visit to a certain village in the mountains."

The grublins all nodded their heads vigorously. With another distasteful growl and with his army following behind him, Nexus turned to the north-west and began the long march for the mountains.

* * *

><p><strong>Boy, Spyro is <em>not<em> making it easy for anyone to make things up to him, is he? Poor guy...**

**Well, there you have it. Obscenely long chapter is finished. Hope you liked it.**

**Until next time...**


	29. Chapter 28

__**100! It's past 100! My story has 100 reviews!**

***runs around cheering ecstatically***

**It is impossible to describe how absolutely shocked and thrilled I am. To get this kind of response on my first ever posted story, as a completely unknown newcomer to this site, is just amazing and beyond my wildest expectations, and I thank you all IMMENSELY for this. I cannot begin to express my gratitude. I've said it before, and I'll say it again; you are all AWESOME!**

**Anyway, this last week has been a crazy one with school, but I still found time to make another big ol' chapter for you all, so here you go. I hope that you enjoy it!**

**Thank you! (x1000)  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 28:<span>_

Within the dark confines of her room, Cynder lay motionlessly atop her bed of cushions staring listlessly out at nothing in particular. Just as it had been on the morning that Spyro had found her after Sirius's and Faren's arrival in the city, not a single lantern within the room was lit and the cover was drawn over her balcony, plunging the room into heavy darkness.

It seemed ironic, she thought. Ever since being released from the Dark Master's power, she had striven to throw off the influence that darkness had had on her life, and yet when she found herself troubled it was in shadow and darkness that she was usually able to find the most peace.

There was no peace for her that morning, however. As she lay without moving and without making a single sound, her thoughts were focussed unwaveringly on Spyro. She was still filled with dull, cold feelings of shame and remorse whenever she thought of him, but ever since the evening before when he had broken down from his pain, those feelings had become even more overshadowed by her worry for him. Seeing him like that had been the most difficult thing she had ever had to bear, and it had left her terrified that he would never be able to overcome his grief.

_Ancestors, why him?_ she thought sadly. _Why did he have to be the one to suffer through this?_

No matter how much she wondered or pleaded, no answer came.

She was suddenly jolted from her troubled thoughts when a soft knock rung out inside her sealed room, and Cynder started slightly before whipping her gaze around toward the thick wooden door. Only a short moment later, a muffled, tentative voice pierced through the wood and into the room.

"Cynder? Are you in there?"

Cynder immediately recognized the voice as Faren's, and confused as to what the red dragoness wanted she rose slowly to her feet and padded soundlessly over to the doorway. When she pulled the door open Faren jumped slightly as though she hadn't actually been expecting Cynder to answer.

"What is it?" Cynder asked, gazing at her friend with quizzical eyes.

"The guardians have asked to see all of us," Faren replied, motioning with her head in the direction of the temple. "Most of the others are there already. We should hurry."

Cynder was caught by surprise by the news of this summons, and she blinked a couple of times dazedly before she said, "Do you know what it is they want?"

Faren shrugged and shook her head apologetically. "No. They just asked me to come get you. They said that they needed you there."

This again caused Cynder to pause.

_Need me?_ she thought, puzzled. _Why doesn't that sound good?_

Eventually she realized that she wasn't going to get any answers just standing there, so she shook her head sharply to clear it and turned to face Faren again.

"Alright, let's go," she said.

Faren nodded her head quickly before turning to her left and starting off toward the stairs. Cynder followed right behind her, and within minutes the pair had descended to the ground level of the residence building and were making their way at a hurried pace toward the temple grounds. As they walked, Cynder gazed sidelong at the slightly smaller dragoness beside her, and a question formed in her mind.

"So, how are you doing?" she asked.

Faren whipped her head around to look at Cynder in surprise, not having been expecting such a question, especially give the situation Cynder was in where it seemed reasonable that she would be worrying about her own problems, not others.

"Fine," she replied at length, but a moment later she gave a small sigh. "I guess. A little shaken."

"I heard you saw some pretty intense fighting."

Faren nodded grimly. "I...I never thought I would be caught in a battle like that before. I didn't really think about it then; I was too busy fighting but..." she trailed off, shuddering quickly along the length of her body. "When I think about it now, it was terrible..."

Cynder sighed and gave a tense nod. "Yes, it is."

"How do you deal with it?" Faren asked suddenly, looking back up at the black dragoness.

Cynder held her gaze for a moment before her eyes drifted distantly away, and she gave another long, heavy sigh.

"I guess I've just gotten accustomed to it," she relented at last. "After all the things I've seen, all the battles I've fought in...I just feel dulled to it." Her expression hardened, and a pang of shame coursed through her. "It's something I'm really not proud of. I almost think I would feel better if I was more affected by it. What does that make me if I'm not truly bothered by seeing so much death anymore?"

Faren faltered slightly and turned a nervous look toward her companion, a hint of wariness in her body language as though Cynder's words had frightened her.

"It doesn't make you a bad dragon," she said finally in a small, uncertain voice.

Cynder grunted and looked doubtfully at the other dragoness, but after a moment her expression softened resignedly.

"Thanks."

Faren gave a small, hesitant smile and nodded her head. Then she turned her gaze forward once again, for the two of them were almost at the steps of the temple. Shortly afterwards they were striding down the building's main hallway and turning through the entrance into the assembly hall. However, as they neared the doorway Cynder frowned when she heard the sounds of a heated conversation within the large chamber.

When Cynder reached the entrance to the hall, she was surprised to find several people within it already, and not just dragons. The three guardians and Sirius were there, of course, but Cynder could also see Mason, Hunter, Prowlus, Raulk, Tythos, the Captain of the Eastern Guard Pyruth, as well as several other guard dragons and moles. Off to one side of the room she could see Sparx and his parents huddled together, watching the commotion in the centre of the room anxiously. To Cynder's surprise, she also saw the strange white dragon, Flash, who was sitting not too far away from the dragonflies and looked likewise uneasy about whatever discussion was occurring at the time.

Cynder shot Faren a questioning glance out of the corner of her eye, but the red dragoness offered little in the way of response, the only expression readable on her face being the look of slight anxiety that was practically standard for her. After a moment Cynder then returned her attention to the room itself and began slowly advancing into it. It was only then that she realized the source of the heated voices was a discussion Terrador and the other guardians were having with another elder dragon that had previously been out of sight behind the earth guardian's bulk, but now that Cynder could see who it was her expression immediately twisted into a distasteful scowl.

"Have the lot of you all lost your minds?" the aged wind dragon and chief elder of the northern city exclaimed, fuming. "What could have possibly possessed you all to see fit to _save_ the dragon that nearly wiped us all out barely two nights ago? If you had any sense at all, you would have left him to die out in the mud! It's no worse than he deserves after all the deaths he caused."

"For the last time, Spyro is not the one guilty for those deaths!" Terrador practically roared, which shocked Cynder immensely. "He has been framed for all the crimes he is accused of, and if you would only swallow your pride for one second and listen to reason you would see that!"

The wind dragon elder snorted derisively. "Oh, please. I understand that you all care for the boy, but concocting such ridiculous claims to defend him even after what he's done to your city? It goes beyond insanity! There are hundreds of witnesses that saw him attacking the city. Just ask the captain over there!"

He gestured with a wing toward Pyruth, who Cynder finally noticed was clutching at his temple with a paw as if suffering from a terrible pain in his head. She wondered if perhaps he had hit it against something during the fighting, and as such it seemed to be causing him a great deal of discomfort. His expression was pinched as he lowered his paw and looked up at the elder dragons.

"Yes, I saw him," the fire dragon replied in a gruff voice. "I have no doubt about it; he's the one I fought in that square."

"The dragon you saw was an imposter," Terrador growled firmly, turning his harsh glare on the dragon captain, "another purple dragon that fooled us into believing he was Spyro."

"Another purple dragon!" the wind elder exclaimed incredulously. "This just gets more and more outlandish by the minute! Do you actually think that we're going to believe that sort of—"

"By my Ancestors, would you shut that obnoxiously oversized trap of yours, you self-righteous, airheaded windbag!" Cyril snapped disdainfully, looking as if he had long since surpassed the limit of his patience.

"How dare you?" the wind dragon cried, outraged. "Why, you—"

"Enough!" Terrador snarled, and Cynder could have sworn she felt the stone floor rumble in response to his anger as he focussed his glare on the wind dragon. "I for one have reached the limit of what I can take of this pointless bickering! If you refuse to listen to facts and would rather condemn an innocent dragon who has already suffered far more than any dragon his age ever should, then you are no longer welcome in this assembly! You know where the door is, I presume?"

The elder held Terrador's glare for a long moment with one of his own that contained just as much disdain and anger as the earth guardian's. Then, with a loud huff that caused the air within the chamber to swirl about, the elder dragon rose to his feet and spun about in a single flowing motion. Then, with his head held high in the air, he stormed toward the entrance through which Cynder and Faren had just entered. When he passed Cynder by on his way out, however, he paused and glanced down in her direction.

"You again," he growled, his lip curling into a sneer. "The fact that you're still here just proves my point that these 'guardians' are out of their minds. At least you did something right in almost ridding us of that purple menace. It's a shame you didn't finish the job, though."

White-hot rage flooded through Cynder's veins, and without even thinking she let loose a furious shriek and lunged for the elder dragon, only to find herself stopped abruptly when Faren grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her back. Cynder struggled, pushing with her hind legs with all her might and lashing at the wind dragon with her talons, snarling in fury. Somehow Faren was able to hold her back though, and finally Cynder stopped trying to lunge forward and settled onto the ground on all fours, her body trembling as she glared murderously up at the larger dragon.

"Despicable," he muttered derisively with a shake of his head, and with that he passed through the doorway of the chamber and was gone.

"So if this 'Spyro' is innocent, explain what I saw," Pyruth said challengingly to Terrador after a long, tense silence had reigned in the hall.

"Stand down, captain," Tythos cut in quickly in a measured tone. "I can't claim to say that I understand what the guardians are saying really happened, and Ancestors know that a claim of a second purple dragon is quite a difficult thing to swallow, but if the guardians, and my son, and my daughter all say that they saw the same thing, then I believe them."

Cynder felt herself relaxing just a touch when she heard the elder fire dragon giving his support to Spyro, and she glanced quickly between Sirius and Faren to see that both fire dragons looked grateful for their father's support as well.

"Yes sir," Pyruth grunted after another, shorter tense silence, and his posture also relaxed slightly, though his expression was still hard.

"But that still leaves a pressing question," Tythos said, turning to gaze back at the guardians. "What do we do now? If Spyro is indeed innocent, how are we going to convince our citizens of that? Many of them lost loved ones during that battle, and they're going to want someone to be held accountable for those losses. This city isn't going to be a safe place for the young dragon for quite some time, I imagine."

"Which is why we would greatly appreciate your help," Terrador replied with a sigh. "If you could get your Guard to relay an announcement to your citizens, saying that Spyro is innocent of all charges and is under the full protection of the guardians and the city of Warfang, and that any aggressive actions taken against him will be dealt with decisively to the full extent of our laws, then it would be tremendously appreciated."

"Of course," Tythos answered immediately, glancing toward Pyruth who merely gave a sharp nod of his head.

"Mason," Terrador continued, "I want you to instruct our Guard to do the same with our citizens. Also, make certain the guards understand the message for themselves as well. It wouldn't do to have a guard of Warfang taking it upon themselves to exact retribution on an innocent dragon."

"I'll see to it immediately, Master Terrador," the squat, furry captain said with a sharp nod of his head.

"Will that be enough though?" Tythos asked once the mole had finished speaking. "The citizens will still want answers. I know that I myself would like a more complete explanation of what has really occurred as well. There will be unrest until they get the information they need."

"We'll see to that," Terrador assured him. "We'll make an announcement at the first opportunity to explain everything that we know, although unfortunately that isn't much."

Tythos seemed slightly reassured, but Cynder on the other hand felt anxiety knotting in her stomach at the earth guardian's words.

_Does 'everything' include telling everyone that this dragon claims to be Spyro's brother?_ she wondered nervously. _Because that probably won't help Spyro much..._

She glanced toward the purple dragon's dragonfly parents, who had looks of terrible worry and fear etched across their faces—and she couldn't blame them, after having to witness the argument between Terrador and the wind dragon elder—and she felt a sickening feeling of dread swell up within her. They had witnessed the struggle outside the walls, but they hadn't been close enough to overhear most of it, which meant that they still didn't know what this dragon, Nexus, had said to Spyro.

How would they take it when they did find out?

_Do they even need to know?_ she thought, almost hoping that it wouldn't end up being necessary to tell them.

"I've already spread similar orders amongst our warriors," Prowlus said to the guardians. "And after the young dragon helped save our village from destruction a number of months ago, they were ready enough to accept the news that he wasn't guilty. Still, I must say I still have my doubts, considering..."

Cynder felt her body go rigid with apprehension, expecting that she knew what the cheetah chief was about to say, but to her relief he trailed off when Hunter made a discrete but insistent motion with a paw beside him and didn't complete the sentence. Still, Tythos and the guards in the chamber all turned inquisitive looks in the cheetah's direction. Afterward, many of them shifted their questioning gazes to the guardians, who also had tension clear in their postures, but they said nothing more on the matter.

"Master Terrador, if I may?" Raulk said suddenly, stepping forward after a brief silence.

Terrador inclined his head in a grant of permission to speak, but by his expression it looked as though the earth guardian was mildly puzzled by the guard's sudden request.

"Sir, what of the citizens of the northern city?"

"What of them?" Cyril said inquiringly, a note of distaste entering his tone as he thought about the wind elder that had only recently departed.

"Don't you think we should take some kind of measures to ensure that they don't attempt anything...rash?" the large earth dragon asked.

"Do you have reason for concern, Raulk?" Terrador inquired.

"To be honest, Master Terrador, I'm not certain, and that's part of what makes me uneasy. It's clear enough that the dragons from that city, and the chief elder primarily among them, bear a great deal of animosity toward Spyro at this time. And while I doubt that he would try to harm a dragon who has been declared to be under the protection of the guardians, at the same time I wouldn't put it past him to order that he be dealt with if he perceives him to be too great of a threat."

"You mean an assassination?" Tythos said, surprise heavy in his tone and expression.

"Oh, dear," Volteer stammered. "Why, that is indeed an exceedingly unsettling, unnerving, unpleasant, uncomforting—"

"It is a rather distasteful thought," Cyril cut in with a grim nod before Volteer could continue on any longer.

"It certainly is," Terrador sighed heavily before turning his gaze back toward Raulk. "You bring up a good point. Very well. If you think you're up to the task, I would like you to assemble a protection detail to keep an eye on Spyro and watch out for any signs that he might be under threat. They don't need to follow him around all the time—Ancestors know he doesn't need to be troubled with that when he has so much else to deal with at the moment—but they should remain in the vicinity and be alert for any signs of danger."

"I'll see to it right away," the earth dragon guard said with a bow of his head.

"Very good. Now, is there anything else of pressing importance that anyone can think of?"

Terrador glanced around the chamber at each of the other elder dragons and guards in turn, and all of them shook their heads.

"Very well then. Thank you all for coming here on such short notice. And I apologize that things didn't go quite as...smoothly as we would have hoped."

The only reply Terrador got there was a number of tense grunts of agreement from many of the other dragons in the room, as well as a few slow nods.

"That concludes our business here, then," the earth guardian said, motioning with a wing toward the door to indicate that the guards and Tythos were dismissed. Cynder thought that the motion looked more like a request than a courtesy, however, but if any of the other dragons noticed this they didn't show it. Soon enough they had all departed, leaving the guardians alone in the hall with Cynder, Faren, Sirius, Flash, the two cheetahs, and Spyro's family.

"Now then," he sighed once he was sure they were alone. He looked up toward the doorway. "Cynder, I'm glad you could join us. Faren, thank you. Why don't you both come in a little farther? Everyone. We have some important matters to discuss."

Cynder could easily hear the tension in the large dragon's voice, and this made her all but certain of what the topic of this 'discussion' was going to be. Regardless of this, though, she slowly advanced farther into the room with Faren at her side before she found a spot to sit slightly away from the door. The others all gathered closer as well, Sparx and his family edging over closer to Cynder. Flash, meanwhile, remained sitting farther off on his own, as though he wasn't comfortable sitting in proximity to anyone else in the room. Cynder shot him a curious look, which he barely met before turning his eyes back toward the guardians.

"Down to business then, I suppose," Terrador grunted once everyone had settled.

"So, what were you wanting to talk to us all about?" Sparx's father asked, glancing around at the gathering in the large chamber and looking somewhat uneasy.

Terrador sighed, a pinched look coming over his features as his gaze dropped to the ground for a moment. Cynder thought that this was already a bad sign as to how this conversation was going to go.

"Well, with what's happened recently with your son," Terrador began carefully, "it seems as though we're left with some matters of great seriousness that we need to have cleared up, the first of which is what we're going to do about this second purple dragon."

"What about him?" Sparx asked nervously.

"Obviously we need to figure out what to do if he shows himself again, but for the moment what we need to try and figure out is what his objectives are, because if we don't even know that then we will have a much harder time standing against him."

"And I don't think any of us are very eager to go through the chaos we had to deal with when Malefor caught us by surprise," Cyril added in an ominous tone.

"Indeed not," Terrador nodded. "I think we can safely assume that his goals have something to do with Spyro at least, but we need more than that. Does anyone have any ideas? Did you notice anything while he was living in the city posing as Spyro?"

"You mean, other than him acting like Spyro had gone all evil Dark Master on us?" Sparx commented unhelpfully.

"Sparx..." Nina muttered reproachfully.

"It doesn't make sense, though," Faren spoke up in an uncertain voice. "Why would he make so much of an effort to turn us all against Spyro? Why not just take him on himself?"

"Perhaps it was a ploy to gain a greater advantage," Cyril suggested. "To weaken Spyro so that he would be easier to overpower in a confrontation, possibly?"

"Or to keep us from trying to help him," Cynder said grimly.

"Yes, that too," Terrador rumbled thoughtfully. Then he looked up. "What thoughts do you have, Flash?"

The blue dragonfly jerked up slightly in surprise, glancing around in confusion. "What's that?"

Terrador faltered, a look of confusion flitting across his face.

"Oh, sorry," he said quickly before lifting a paw and pointing at the young white dragon who was sitting alone. "I meant that Flash."

"Me?" the white dragon said, looking up with a startled expression.

"Oh, I can just tell that this is going to get confusing," Sparx groaned, raising a hand to his brow.

"No kidding," his father added with a nod.

"You'll just have to get used to it," Nina told them with a small sigh.

"Indeed," Terrador rumbled in agreement before turning his gaze once more toward the white dragon. "Well then, Flash? Did the events at your home village provide you with any clues as to what this purple dragon is trying to accomplish?"

Flash paused thoughtfully for a long moment, his gaze falling downward to the floor as he sorted through his memories of the events at his home. At length, though, he looked up, his eyes apologetic.

"I don't know," he said. "The attack came out of nowhere. I didn't really notice any point to it."

"It did provide him with opportunity," Hunter pointed out suddenly. "Spyro's imprisonment that resulted from that attack gave this dragon a chance to take his place for a short time."

At the mention of Spyro's imprisonment in the village Cynder cringed forcefully, images of the scars on his body flaring intensely in her memory and causing her to wince. A feeling of cold dread and sadness filled her, but just then she was startled when she realized that the others in the room had noticed her reaction.

"Cynder?" Terrador said slowly, a mildly suspicious look veiled behind the concern in his eyes. "Is there something else that we don't know yet?"

Cynder hesitated, glancing around anxiously at the gathered dragons, dragonflies and cheetahs that were all gazing back at her inquisitively. At length, though, she shook her head.

"Later," she said in a low tone, speaking mostly to Terrador specifically.

Terrador seemed slightly surprised by this answer, as did everyone else in the room, and for a brief moment an atmosphere of unease pervaded in the chamber as everyone wondered what it could be that she wasn't telling them. In the end, though, Cynder was saved from having to explain—and as unlikely as it would seem, her rescuer was Prowlus.

"I myself am more concerned with what this other dragon said outside the wall," the cheetah interjected in his usual gruff tone. "I'm certain that I'm not the only one who heard him mention a 'master', and I want to know what kind of a threat they pose, whoever it is."

"He does raise an excellent point," Volteer said quickly, turning to face Terrador. "And this young dragon's use of the possessive 'our' when addressing Spyro is certainly concerning and unsettling as well."

Terrador's expression clouded, and his gaze drifted off in thought. "Indeed..."

"Hold on," Flash—the dragonfly Flash—cut in suddenly, catching the guardians' attention. "What are you talking about? What 'master', and what does it have to do with our son?"

Terrador gave a heavy sigh, looking reluctant.

"We're referring to something that this other purple dragon, Nexus, said to Spyro after he revealed his deception. He said, 'our master will be furious,' presumably in reference to his failure to complete his ruse to turn us against our young friend."

"What does that mean, 'our master'?" Nina asked, worry thick in her voice.

"Are you saying you think Spyro is somehow associated with this other dragon?" Flash asked insistently.

Terrador and the other guardians all hesitated, and Cynder cringed again, though this time she didn't think anyone noticed it except for Faren beside her. She didn't truly care if they did notice or not, though. Her mind was focussed solely on one almost desperate thought in her mind.

_Don't tell them!_

To her relief, they didn't get the chance to reveal the relation that Spyro had to Nexus, for Nina cut in before they could.

"That can't be possible, though!" she protested. "We were there the entire time he was growing up. If someone was calling themselves his 'master' we would have known about it, but there wasn't! He never saw anyone from outside the swamp until the day he found out what he really was!"

"This has to be some kind of mistake," Flash added in a firm voice.

"Yeah, I kept a closer watch on my bro than even Mom and Dad did, and there was no 'master' anywhere," Sparx agreed.

"And I don't doubt you all," Terrador said, raising a paw in an attempt to calm the dragonflies before they became too agitated. "I agree, it seems very unlikely that Spyro could have become subject to any 'master' without anybody ever knowing about it, but it's also undoubtedly true that this entire situation is more complicated than any of us realize."

"So what can we do?" Sirius asked.

"I suppose that being on our guard is all that we can do at this point. It seems that we have no way of knowing what it is he wants, other than it has something to do with Spyro, and if he can make more portals like that one he used to escape then it's impossible to know where he is now."

"A very unsettling thought," Cyril muttered darkly.

"Agreed," Terrador said grimly. "At any rate, all we can do is be ready. And I suggest that we all try to keep as close to Spyro as possible for the time being. Whatever Spyro's part is in this 'Nexus's' plans, we don't want him to succeed in getting to him."

"He's not going to like having us crowding him," Cynder cautioned.

"I know," Terrador sighed. "And in other circumstances, I would have agreed that the best thing for him would be to have as much space and time as he needs, possibly even leave the city for a time if that is what he wanted so that he could sort out his thoughts and feelings, but as it is now that's not possible. He's going to have to accept it until this threat has passed."

Cynder let out a sad sigh and allowed her head to droop slightly, feeling that it wasn't fair for Spyro to have to endure so much, especially after everything he had already been through, but she agreed that there was no helping it.

"So, is that everything you wanted to speak to us about?" she asked at length.

Terrador shook his head, and Cynder felt her heart sink when she saw the grim, serious look in his eyes as he gazed straight at her. She feared that she knew what he was going to say next, but she hoped desperately that she was wrong.

She wasn't.

"No," the guardian said finally in a tense voice. "I think that all of us here would like to know what it is we saw out there that night. And you seem to be the only one who can give us an answer in that regard."

Cynder was silent for a long moment, tension evident in her body as she stared grimly at the floor in front of her, trying not to remember the fear she had felt when she had seen Spyro succumb to the darkness inside him for what was the third time now. It was something she had tried to avoid thinking about ever since she had first seen it in him, for it terrified her to think about what he was capable of when he was in that form.

She hadn't seen what Spyro had done to Gaul when they had fought in the Well of Souls, but she had been able to hear the battle and knew that it had been intense. And though she hadn't witnessed it herself, after hearing the unmistakeable crash and roar of a horrifyingly strong convexity attack and seeing Spyro fly back up through the hole in the floor in the middle of that beam of energy without Gaul following him, she could imagine what had really happened.

What she imagined wasn't pretty.

Letting out a long, slow breath, she looked up to see that everyone else in the room was still gazing intently at her, and she knew that she didn't have a choice but to tell them what she knew. She turned her head and fixed her gaze on Sparx, who was hovering anxiously just to the side of his parents.

"So I take it you haven't told them anything."

Sparx gave a nervous chuckle and reached up to rub the back of his head.

"Yeah, well, you know," he muttered. "Trying to think about it as little as possible."

"Wait a minute," Nina cut in suddenly, rounding on Sparx. "You knew about this before? You're saying this isn't the first time that Spyro became..._that_?"

Sparx winced and brought a hand across his face. "Yeah, it might have happened once before..."

"Twice," Cynder corrected.

"What?" Flash the dragonfly exclaimed as he and Nina spun around the face Cynder.

"What do you mean, twice?" Sparx asked, also sounding alarmed. "I thought it was only the one time that he was fighting the big creepy ape guy."

Cynder shook her head with a heavy sigh. "No, it happened again when...when Ignitus died."

"So..." Nina said in a tight, hesitant voice. "So you're saying that this has happened three times now?"

"What _did_ happen to him?" Flash asked worriedly.

When she saw the look of untold worry and even fear in the faces of the dragonflies, Cynder felt a terrible swell of reluctance rise up within her. How could she do this? How could she tell them that inside their son, a monster was caged? But then she realized with a pang of regret that it was already too late to protect them; they had seen it for themselves. Everyone in the room had.

When she looked up and around at the gathered dragons, cheetahs and dragonflies, it was with a look of great seriousness in her eyes.

"All of you need to promise not to repeat this to anyone," she told them.

She was met by several looks of surprise, especially from the guardians.

"Cynder, if this...other side of Spyro is something that's dangerous, we can't keep it a secret," Terrador told her severely.

"And I for one am not going to endanger any more of my warriors if it turns out that this dragon is a threat to be around," Prowlus growled.

"We have a responsibility to alert the Guard of what to look out for, at the very least," Terrador continued.

"You have a responsibility to Spyro too!" Cynder said defiantly. "If he doesn't want people to know about this part of him, then we should all respect that and keep it to ourselves! How much do you think it would hurt him if word of this got out? His reputation is damaged enough as it is right now without adding this to it."

This caused the guardians to hesitate, and only a few seconds later Terrador released a defeated sigh.

"You certainly have a point there," he conceded.

"It may not go over well," Cyril agreed. "After all, the purple dragon before him, and now this new one, seem to have a consistent inclination toward destruction between them. If the citizens learned now that Spyro also has a darker side to him as well..."

"Oh, it would be a calamity," Volteer cut in, sounding alarmed. "A disaster. Pandemonium. A—"

"Volteer," Terrador said sharply, acutely aware of the dismayed expressions that were growing on the faces of Spyro's dragonfly parents. "That will do, thank you."

The electricity dragon immediately bowed his head, looking abashed. "Of course, my apologies..."

Cynder heard a low growl of displeasure come from the direction of the two cheetahs, and she looked to see Prowlus standing with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"I've always hated cover-ups," he scowled. "And I certainly never thought I would be caught up in one."

"It's for the best," Hunter said to him.

Prowlus gave a gruff snort, clearly no happy about the way things were proceeding, but not making any further protest either.

"So, Cynder?" Terrador said, turning to face the black dragoness again. "You have our word. Nothing of what you tell us will leave this chamber. Now, please, what _did_ we see out there?"

Cynder gave a long sigh before reluctantly beginning to divulge what she knew of Spyro's darker side—which, in actuality, wasn't much. She told them about the first time it had manifested in the Well of Souls, and the theory that she had come to about how it had formed; she figured that when Spyro was inside that beam of energy, it had consumed him with darkness, for even from just looking at it she had been able to practically feel the vile energy radiating out from it. Then she told them about how it had nearly led to both of their deaths after Ignitus's sacrifice. When she was finished she felt deflated, as well as ashamed for revealing so much about a part of Spyro that should have always remained unknown.

"So...this darkness is _always_ inside him?" Faren asked in a quiet voice after a long, heavy silence had reigned in the chamber while everyone processed what they had heard.

Cynder gave a stiff nod. "From what I understand of it, yes."

"And you're saying that it can break out at any time?" Terrador asked warily.

"No, no, it's not like that," Cynder said hurriedly, shaking her head. "It looks like it only happens in extreme circumstances, when his emotions go out of control."

"It _looks_ like it does," Terrador repeated sceptically. "But you don't know for sure."

Cynder sighed but shook her head again. "No. It's only happened a couple of times, so I don't think anyone really knows the way it works. Not even Spyro."

"I don't understand this," Nina said weakly. "How could something like this happen to our Spyro? He's always been such a good dragon! But this...It isn't right."

"Indeed not," Cyril said grimly. Then he turned his head toward the earth guardian. "Do you think we need to put in place some kind of measure to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't slip into this dark form again?"

"What?" Cynder blurted. "You mean, like guard him? That will only make things worse! Putting more pressure on him will only agitate him more. He isn't dangerous, and he's no worse a dragon because of this than he was before it. We just need to be aware of it in difficult times in case he starts to slip. That doesn't mean you should treat him any different!"

"You're right, of course," Terrador said quickly with a nod. "It would be wrong to let this news of his...unfortunate condition skew our perceptions of him. Still, I worry about what could happen if he does lose himself to this darkness again. Do you know what he would be capable of?"

"I...I don't know," Cynder said with a sad sigh. "He's not himself when he's like that. He might do anything."

Terrador gave a tense grunt under his breath before exchanging glances with his guardian associates. Then, after a short pause, he took a deep breath to collect himself and straightened up slightly into a more professional posture.

"At any rate, I'm glad you told us all about this, Cynder. Hopefully now that we have a better idea of what Spyro has to struggle with, we can provide better support for him in this difficult time." He then looked around at the entire gathering. "Now, I think that we can call this discussion to a close, unless anyone else has anything that they feel needs to be addressed."

There was only silence in response, and Terrador gave a small nod before rising to his feet.

"Very well then."

With that he turned and began padding slowly toward one of the exits from the assembly hall, and all around everyone else was doing the same. Beside Cynder, Faren stood up and brushed the black dragoness's shoulder lightly with a folded wing before giving her a small, half-hearted smile of comfort. Then she moved over to join Sirius, and the two fire dragons departed the room.

Cynder didn't move to follow after them, instead watching as Sparx and his parents fluttered out of the room. She noticed that Sparx was trying to comfort his parents, who appeared greatly distraught from the hard news they had been given about their dragon son.

_What a mess this all is_, she thought mournfully, her head sagging toward the ground as she gave a long sigh. _Poor Spyro. This is so unfair..._

Over on the far side of the chamber, Terrador was just reaching the inner-most exit of the hall that would take him deeper into the temple, following after Cyril and Volteer who were discussing quietly amongst themselves, but at that moment he seemed to notice that Cynder hadn't moved since everyone in the room had been dismissed. He paused and looked curiously back at her.

"Cynder?" he said, jolting the black dragoness slightly. "Is there something more on your mind?"

Cynder held his gaze for a moment before allowing her eyes to drift off in thought, mulling over all that had been said in the assembly hall that morning and all that had plagued her mind the night before.

"I...I don't know," she grunted at length in a tired-sounding voice. "This just all feels so wrong."

"Hmm," Terrador rumbled with a nod. "I understand what you mean. These times are far too dark for what should have been a peace to follow the war."

"Yeah, but it's not that that's bothering me," Cynder said quickly with a shake of her head.

Terrador said nothing, instead just fixing her with a quizzical look. Cynder sighed.

"We _let_ him do this," she said quietly, her gaze downcast. "We _let_ him turn us all against Spyro. How could we do that? What if Spyro is right? Are we all secretly wary of him because of what his predecessor was?"

This time it was Terrador's turn to sigh, and his expression became pinched with tension.

"I think it would be pointless to deny that whenever someone bears tremendous power, there always exists a fear that they will use it for the wrong ends, no matter how much we may trust them."

"That's just the thing, though! Do we really trust him, when we let ourselves believe so quickly that he would really turn against us and the city? I mean, I was _sure_ that I trusted him and believed in him, but then, when everything started to go wrong..." She trailed off, her gaze falling to the ground again, and a moment later she looked back up with almost pleading eyes. "How...how can I still claim to love him if I can allow myself to stop believing in him? I stopped trusting him, Terrador. I failed him."

A look of sympathy crossed the earth guardian's features, and he began softly padding closer to the black dragoness who was in such clear turmoil before him.

"We all failed him," he said gently. "But we shouldn't keep dwelling on that. Things could have turned out far worse than they did, but he's here now, and he's safe enough and recovering, and we can be here for him when he needs us now. The fact that we allowed ourselves to doubt him, and allowed him to remain imprisoned for so long may be a hard thing to forgive ourselves for, but it's over now."

But he faltered when Cynder cringed at the mention of the prison, and a worried look came into his eyes.

"Cynder, what is it?" he asked anxiously.

He seemed to grow even more uneasy when Cynder raised her head to meet his gaze and he saw the ache and sadness in her eyes.

"Terrador...they tortured him," she said in a voice so tight, it came out as little more than a whisper.

Terrador recoiled in shock, and for several moments he was too stunned to speak, but finally he managed to force out, "What? Are you certain? What makes you so sure?"

"Those scars," she muttered past a lump that was forming in her throat as shame and grief built up within her. "Didn't you notice something strange about them?"

"Well, now that you mention it..." Terrador rumbled thoughtfully. "They didn't seem like any marks I had seen made from restraints before. But what of it?"

"I know what made them," Cynder replied, unable to meet the larger dragon's gaze. "Those restraints...They were _mine_."

"Yours?"

Cynder nodded weakly. "Back when I was serving the Dark Master, I designed a type of restraints specifically for holding the dragons that I captured, since their elements meant that they could break out of normal restrains far too easily if given the chance. I spent years on them, infusing them with dark, ancient powers from gems and crystals that would react whenever an element was used on them. I designed them so that they would cause as much pain as possible..."

She trailed off as he shame grew too great for her to continue, and it took her several moments to collect herself enough to continue, but even then it was a tremendous struggle. In her mind she could imagine Spyro writhing as her restraints sent pulses of dark power through his body, like she had seen so many dragons do before, and those images were nearly enough to make her physically sick.

"That's what they used on Spyro," she told Terrador weakly. "I'm sure of it. Something _I_ made was used to torture him, and to leave scars like that on him..."

Her voice caught again, and a violent tremor ran through her body. A second later, though, she jumped when she felt something brush against her flank, and she opened her eyes and looked up to see, to her surprise, that Terrador had moved over beside her and had rested a wing of comfort over her.

"It's not your fault," he told her firmly. "But I cannot deny that this news troubles me a great deal. This only makes it all the more surprising that Spyro is recovering the way he is, after suffering something so horrible."

Something about the way he said those words caused Cynder to pause, confused, and after reaching up with a paw to wipe at one of her moist eyes she looked quizzically up at him.

"What do you mean, recovering the way he is?"

Terrador's expression seemed to brighten just a touch, and he said, "I was contacted by the healer overseeing his treatment earlier this morning. Though she can't fully explain it, the gem treatments that they gave him overnight seemed to have a greater effect than the ones they had tried to administer earlier in the day. She said it was as though something in him finally changed so that he was at least slightly more willing to be healed."

Cynder faltered, and her gaze drifted off distantly as she suddenly thought back to the previous evening, when Spyro had broken down and finally allowed himself to just release the pain that he'd been holding inside of him. She wasn't naive enough to think that the event meant that he had overcome his grief, or that he had even begun to forgive her, but maybe it had been a start.

"At any rate, she's informed me that Spyro should be well enough to be released from the infirmary this afternoon, if his recovery continues at this rate."

"This afternoon?" Cynder repeated in surprise.

Terrador nodded, a small smile of what could possibly be relief tugging at the corner of his muzzle. "So long as his condition is monitored closely. In that respect, I had wanted to ask you if you thought you would be able to meet him at the infirmary when it came time for him to be released."

"Me?"

Again the earth dragon nodded. "I understand if you aren't comfortable with it, given the tensions between you two, but I felt that it would be in his best interest if someone that cared a great deal for him was there to support him as he continues his recovery, and I could think of no one better for that task than you. So, will you do it?"

"Yes," Cynder replied without a second's hesitation. "If you think it will help him, then of course I'll do it."

Terrador smiled at the sudden note of eagerness in her voice, and he inclined his head gratefully.

"Good. It's a condition of his release anyway that someone be with him at all times just in case there are any complications in his condition, but I'm sure it will be for his benefit if it's someone that cares for him as much as you do. I'll make sure that you are informed when his release will be."

Cynder nodded her head in thanks. Satisfied, Terrador removed his wing and stood, padding off once again toward the exit where he had been heading before. Cynder watched him leaving for a moment, feeling slightly stunned, before she turned around and exited the chamber as well, departing the temple and taking to the sky, flying in the direction of her room.

Once she had approached the building, she alit on her small balcony and padded into the room without pause, dragging one of her cushions over closer to the balcony archway and lying down on top of it, staring out over the city. Once settled, she lay without moving as she watched the general bustle in the city, where moles and dragons were working to repair the damage that had been left in the wake of the grublins' attack.

The hours passed at an agonizingly slow pace, but Cynder could bring herself to do nothing more than lie there in her room, her mind consumed by thoughts of all that had occurred in only the past couple of days. It seemed unfathomable that so much damage could have been done so rapidly, and yet the evidence was out in the city for all to see, as well as in the hearts of everyone affected. And, though she hated to say it, she had a feeling that the worse wasn't over yet.

Finally, just as she was beginning to think that her anxious anticipation would be the death of her, a knock sounded at her door. The sound had hardly even ceased echoing softly within the chamber before Cynder had bolted over and yanked the door open. On the other side of the threshold a mole attendant started slightly in surprise at the black dragoness's rapid appearance.

"Master Terrador wished for you to be informed that young Master Spyro is due to be released from the infirmary shortly," the mole told her after he had regained his composure. "He—"

But whatever the mole said next, Cynder didn't wait to hear it. A surge of mixed excitement and apprehension exploded through her, and before the mole even knew what was happening she had slammed the door shut once again and sprinted for her balcony, taking to the air only seconds later. From there, it was only a couple of minutes before she was gliding down toward the street in front of the infirmary's main entrance, and she landed quickly in the centre of the open space before moving back and finding a seat where she was out of the way. Then she waited.

She wasn't alone, she noticed. Two dragon guards were stationed on either side of the infirmary's door, keeping watch on the passing citizens with ever-suspicious gazes, searching for any sign that anyone was planning anything to do with the purple dragon inside. When Cynder landed they glanced toward her for only a moment before inclining their heads in recognition of her arrival and turning their attention back to the crowds.

Aside from the guards, Sirius and Faren also arrived a couple of minutes later and, when they saw Cynder, moved over to sit with her. Sirius said that he only had time to exchange a quick greeting with Spyro before he had to return to the temple, but he had still felt it was only right that he be there when the purple dragon was released. Faren also was only planning on saying a quick hello before being off on her way, deciding that it might be best if Spyro wasn't crowded and that Cynder be the one to accompany him out from the infirmary. Cynder was grateful for the red dragoness's consideration, and she had no doubt that, were he in a better frame of mind, Spyro would be as well.

Finally, Cynder caught sight of motion within the infirmary's doorway, and a moment later the pale yellow healer dragoness appeared just within the shaded threshold of the entranceway, turning to the side and looking back at someone still out of sight within the darker interior of the building. Then Cynder saw a flash of purple scales, and shortly afterward Spyro appeared on the top step.

At the sight of him, Cynder felt a strange mixture of relief but also nervousness. She was extremely happy to see him up on his feet again after she had come so close to losing him, but at the same time she felt afraid. What if nothing had changed from the previous day? What if he rejected her again?

She remained motionless as the purple dragon paused on the top step, waiting for him to descend into the street before going out to meet him. He was looking up and to his left, where his parents and Sparx were hovering and speaking to him. She could hear their voices, but the general sounds of the city made it impossible to make out what they were actually saying, and she didn't move closer to find out. Spyro's expression was guarded as he spoke with the dragonflies, she noticed, but there was still a faint hint of gladness in his eyes at seeing them, though it was hardly anything at all.

A moment later she saw Nina move forward and rest a small hand on the purple dragon's cheek, and he offered a fleeting, forced smile at the corner of his mouth before she pulled back. Then Sparx gave a small wave, to which Spyro responded with a stiff nod, and together the three dragonflies flitted off down the street. Spyro looked after them for a moment, then turned his attention down toward the stairs and began making to descend them. Upon seeing this, Cynder rose to her feet, but then she faltered.

As Spyro walked down the steps of the infirmary, Cynder noticed with a stab of pain in her heart that he was moving with a very noticeable limp whenever he placed any pressure on his left foreleg. While he was walking, his mouth was drawn into a tight line and he winced slightly whenever he stepped with his injured leg, the limb clearly causing him a significant amount of discomfort.

_I did that to him_, Cynder thought sadly, and she turned her head away when she couldn't stand to see the purple dragon struggling on the steps any longer.

Spyro paused when he reached the street and Sirius and Faren moved out to greet him, and Cynder watched in silence as they exchanged a few quick words, Sirius and Faren appearing quite glad to see him out of the infirmary. Spyro, meanwhile, looked tense and impatient, as if he just wanted to part ways and be left alone.

_I can't do this_, Cynder thought to herself as a fresh wave of trepidation struck her. _If he doesn't even want to talk to Sirius and Faren, how can I expect him to put up with having me following him around? Sparx would have been such a better choice for this_.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed the two fire dragons beginning to depart, and a swell of what almost felt like panic shot through her when she realized that it was just her and the purple dragon left. She couldn't bring herself to move out to meet him, even as he turned to leave on his own down the street that would lead him back to his room in their residence building.

Then, while he was turning, he finally caught sight of Cynder standing frozen in the shadows of the buildings lining the far side of the street, and he immediately stopped and fixed her with a look that was mostly blank save for a small amount of surprise at seeing her. For a long moment Cynder simply stared back at him, feeling strangely similar to what she would imagine prey to feel like when spotted by a predator. After almost a full minute passed in which neither of them moved, however, she realized that she had no choice but to proceed.

With slow, tentative movements, she stepped out from the shadows and cautiously advanced across the street toward him. He watched her approach without speaking and without moving, his hard eyes boring into her and causing her to shrink in on herself, trying to make herself small to escape his gaze. When she was only a couple of feet from him she stopped and just stood there, struggling to hold his gaze.

"Hey," she managed to force out at length.

For several moments he didn't reply, simply studying her as she stood anxiously before him, wondering how he was going to react. In the silence she allowed her eyes to wander over his body. His bandages were gone, and she was pleased to see that his wounds had all completely sealed over at least, save for the poison burn on his foreleg where the scales were still raw and mangled-looking, and she doubted that they would ever look undamaged again. The other scars on his body had all faded considerably thanks to the gem treatments, however, even if they hadn't disappeared completely, and for this she was glad.

The silence between them continued to draw out in length, and with each second that passed Cynder grew more and more uneasy. She wanted him to say something, anything, but it seemed more likely by the second that he was just going to keep staring her down until she lost her nerve and fled.

Then, suddenly, he answered her, and his answer caught her off guard. He didn't yell. He didn't batter her with words, like she felt he was justified to do. Instead, his response was a single, gruff word.

"Hey."

Cynder blinked a couple of times in surprise before allowing a faint, relieved smile to appear on her muzzle. When he turned away to begin walking down the street she quickly fell into step beside him, and while the tension in his body was impossible to miss there seemed to be no hostility in his bearing.

He said nothing, and Cynder didn't pressure him to speak. She simply offered him her support by her presence, and it warmed her heart a touch when he seemed to accept it. He hadn't forgiven her; that much was clear by the coldness in his posture and his eyes. Cynder had no doubt that it would be a struggle to regain his faith and mend things between them, and this caused a swell of sadness within her heart. But, at the same time she felt confident enough to think that he didn't hate her, and that helped reassure her at least a little.

For the moment, that was all she needed.

***.*.***

Two more days passed in relative peace in the city as the residents worked to rebuild, but it looked as if it was going to be quite some time before the scars from the battle that had ravaged the dragon capital could be erased. And while the citizens, both from Warfang itself and the refugees from the other cities, were beginning to relax after time passed with no signs of further danger, tension was still high.

Wherever anyone went in the streets, they were reminded of the hardships that had recently befallen the city, in the sights of rubble that was still piled in the streets, or in the damaged or crumbled buildings dotted throughout the city, or in the injured that walked Warfang's streets or the general air of uneasiness that followed most everyone about. It was especially pronounced in the centre of the city, where the guardians were most often seen, for they were clearly the most uneasy out of everyone. And also, that was where Spyro was.

After the first couple of days had passed, Cynder had been relieved that Spyro had accepted without too much argument the watchful presence of his companions as he gradually eased back into life in the city after the events that had nearly claimed his life. Most of the time it was Cynder or Sparx and his parents that stayed with him, but often enough it was Faren or Flash that accompanied him too. Once Hunter had even volunteered to spend a short while keeping the young dragon company.

Flash was clearly the dragon whose company Spyro welcomed most out of all of them, and this was a fact that stung Cynder bitterly, but she didn't protest and she didn't complain, instead giving her best effort to be supportive and comforting. At least, she told herself, he didn't resist her presence, and ever so slowly it seemed that he was beginning to allow himself to open up to her. It was hardly anything at all, just a few scattered words every now and again and nothing of any great importance, but it was a start.

On the third day, Cynder was once again keeping Spyro company, and she had suggested that they take a walk in the city since he had spent the days since leaving the infirmary mostly cooped up in his room, hardly moving at all, brooding in his enduring depression. She hoped that getting him out in the sunshine for a little exercise would help draw him out of his troubles somewhat, and after a great deal of pressuring he had finally relented. After a brief search they had found Sparx, Faren, and Flash, and all three had agreed to accompany them.

By midday their small group had been wandering the streets of the city for almost two hours, weaving through scattered garden squares and empty market streets, trying to keep off the main roads as much as possible. The city was busy those days, after all, with so many dragons from the other cities calling Warfang their temporary home, and suspicion surrounding Spyro was heavy.

The guards from both Warfang and the Eastern city had been constantly spreading the word of Spyro's innocence and that there was no reason for anyone to hold any animosity or suspicion towards him, but it was only to be expected that the citizens would be sceptical. Now, whenever he and Cynder crossed anyone in the street, the most common reaction was for Spyro to receive a wary glare before the onlooker would hurry off on their own way. Cynder worried that this was undoing her efforts at lifting his spirits by getting him outside, but for his sake she didn't make any mention of it and tried to simply put it out of her mind.

Shortly afterward they came across an open rectangular courtyard that sat more toward the eastern side of the city, with a fountain on the western edge and very gradually sloping downward from there, the decorative stone forming a set of large steps each about a dozen metres wide. A row of flower beds down the centre added colour to the various shades of golden brown that was so prevalent in the city, and low shrubs dotted the perimeter. Surprisingly, the space was empty of any other dragons or moles.

"Why don't we rest here for a bit?" Cynder suggested, turning to Spyro and noticing the slight air of weariness about his posture as he stood with his weight shifted to his right side to take pressure off his weaker leg.

Spyro glanced about the courtyard for a moment before giving a small shrug of his shoulders.

"I guess," he muttered.

Cynder couldn't help but feel slightly discouraged when she heard the listless tone of the purple dragon's voice, but she said nothing as she watched him limp over to the edge of the fountain and settle on his haunches facing out over the courtyard, looking down at his wounded leg as if inspecting it. Then, slowly, the black dragoness moved over to his side and sat down as well. Faren sat on Spyro's other side, looking concernedly at the purple dragon, while Flash sat on the opposite side of Cynder, gazing curiously up at the fountain. Sparx settled down on the edge of the railing that ran around the fountain.

"How are you feeling?" Cynder asked Spyro. "Is your leg hurting much?"

"I'm fine," the purple dragon grunted in reply.

"You sure?" Sparx spoke up. "Because you've been looking a little rough for the past little while there."

"I said I'm fine," Spyro said more forcefully, and Sparx immediately recoiled.

"Whoa, okay big guy. I was just checking."

Spyro gave a tense sigh and turned his gaze away from his brother, staring out into the empty courtyard. Cynder glanced back toward Sparx, and the dragonfly gave a helpless shrug. Letting out a muffled, tense breath, Cynder turned away from Spyro for a moment. Her eyes settled on Flash, who was busy staring out at the city and looking like he was in a mild state of shock. She cleared her throat to grab his attention.

"So how are you adjusting to the city?"

Flash looked a bit uncertain about the question for a moment, and Cynder wasn't entirely surprised. In the short few times that she had interacted with him she had come to the conclusion that he wasn't a dragon that liked to get personal, but after a moment he seemed to push past his reservations.

"Alright, I guess," he grunted. "It's...different."

He looked up at the sky as he said this, and for a moment it looked as if he was almost daunted by the vast expanse of clear, open air. Cynder frowned in mild confusion, wondering what could be so unsettling about the sky—wasn't that where dragons were the most free and in their own element? But then she suddenly understood: he had spent his whole life in an enclosed cavern, secluded and sheltered, and now having nothing but open air above him must make him feel terribly exposed.

"It does take some getting used to," she agreed after a moment. "But I think you'll like it here." Then she paused, a new thought suddenly occurring to her. "That is, if you choose to stay."

Behind her she heard a rustle as Spyro's head jerked up, and she imagined that he was giving the white dragon a surprised look. Flash also seemed slightly caught off guard by the comment, and his brow furrowed in thought as he considered it.

"Do you think you'll stay here?" Faren asked him. "Or will you go back to your village?"

"I...I don't know," Flash said uncertainly after a pause. "I guess I never thought about it. There's nothing really left for me there, but..." He glanced around at the enormous city again. "I don't know. I've always wondered what Warfang was like from hearing stories, but I never pictured myself living in it."

"Well, I'm sure that if you did choose to stay the guardians would make sure you were well accommodated." Then a thought struck her, and she glanced back toward Spyro and Faren. "There are still empty rooms on our floor in the residence, aren't there?"

Spyro glanced up at her but said nothing. Faren, meanwhile, nodded.

"I think so," she said.

"Where have you been staying so far?" Cynder asked as she looked at Flash again.

The white dragon gave a small shrug. "A spare room in the temple."

"Well, we should ask the guardians about giving you a room in our building," Cynder said, addressing Spyro and Faren again. Then she added to Flash, "That is, of course, if you want."

Flash hesitated, but then he leaned over and met his gaze with Spyro's, and it seemed as though the idea of being closer to the only dragon he really knew in the city had a strong appeal to him. After a long indecisive pause he gave another small shrug of his shoulders.

"I guess."

Cynder allowed a small smile to flit across her muzzle. "Well, that's settled then."

Flash nodded distractedly before turning his gaze out over the empty courtyard, a guarded look about his expression as though he was afraid to show any real reaction to their conversation. A hush fell over the small group for a number of minutes, with only the distant background noise of the city and the soft burbling of the fountain breaking the silence. At first it was refreshing and calming, but when the silence began to feel depressing Cynder decided to try and start up another conversation with the mysterious young white dragon.

"So what have you been doing while you've been here?" she asked him. "I haven't seen you around very much."

Flash glanced at her sidelong uncertainly for a moment, but then a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he gave a weak chuckle.

"I'm good at not being seen."

"So I've noticed," Cynder replied wryly, recalling how he had appeared out of thin air beside her outside of the wall during the battle. "Have you just been staying by yourself?"

He shook his head. "No, Faren's been showing me around the city a bit."

This caught Cynder by surprise, and she turned a quizzical look toward the red dragoness.

"Really?"

Faren looked puzzled by Cynder's reaction, and in an uncertain voice she said, "Yeah..."

Cynder didn't quite know how to respond, surprised that Faren would take on such an initiative, but when she thought about it she couldn't help but allow a small smile onto her face when she realized that it seemed oddly appropriate. It was in a way fitting that the first dragon in the city Flash would begin to bond to besides Spyro would be one just as reserved as he was—albeit in a different way.

"Well there's a lot to see," Sparx commented, butting into the conversation, and Cynder turned a wry smirk down at where he was still reclining on the stone border of the fountain. "Even after how long they've been here, I'm _still_ showing Mom and Dad new places. You should come along sometime, Spyro. I bet they would like a chance to spend a bit more time with the _real_ you."

Spyro gave a stiff grunt of dry humour that wasn't really heartfelt, and that was the extent of his response. Sparx gave a sigh of surrender before trying a different tactic for conversation.

"So does anyone else find it a little weird how quiet it's been for these last few days?"

"Are you complaining?" Cynder asked teasingly.

"Pfft, as if," Sparx snorted, waving a hand. "But doesn't it bother you a little? I mean, when evil purple boy left he made it sound like he was going to be back."

Cynder frowned thoughtfully, and a tense silence fell over the group as they all thought about that night. Spyro, especially, went rigid, and a dark look came into his eyes, one that made Cynder uneasy.

"It does seem a little strange that he would give us this time to recover," Faren commented at length. "I mean, if he wanted to get to Spyro, the best time to try would have been a couple of days ago when he was weakest."

"But when he was the most closely guarded," Cynder pointed out. "I don't know. But I agree with Sparx. I don't like it."

"Meh, it's probably nothing," Sparx grunted nonchalantly, though Cynder could hear the masked tension in his voice. "All I can say is that I'll be happy if I never see that creep's purple hide ever—"

He was cut short mid-sentence when, without any warning at all, a loud _CRACK!_ split the air in the courtyard, followed a split-second later by a bright violet flash of light. The four dragons and Sparx all gave startled cries and jumped before whipping their gazes around to the centre of the courtyard.

Cynder gasped and felt her blood turn cold with dread when a swirling mass of crackling violet energy that looked far too familiar formed a couple of metres above the ground, spreading outward until, only a couple of seconds after it had appeared, it formed an dark, vortex-like opening large enough for a dragon their age to fit through. A second, louder _CRACK!_ suddenly echoed out through the courtyard and over the city, causing Cynder to flinch, and at that same moment a figure shot out from the opening and landed heavily on the stone about two dozen feet from their group. Then the portal collapsed and disappeared, a dull roar and crash echoing out over the city and into the distance.

A stunned hush that seemed unnaturally heavy filled the courtyard and the city beyond, and in that span Cynder felt her shock and surprise slowly being replaced by a deep, cold fury growing steadily within her. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she glared out at the purple dragon that stood before them, looking completely relaxed as he gazed back at their group with a dark smirk on his face.

"Oh, I just had to say it," Sparx groaned quietly, bringing a hand to his face.

The sound of paws thudding heavily against the cobblestone streets sounded from numerous alleys and side streets around the courtyard, and Nexus glanced about with an unconcerned expression as several dragon guards that had been keeping watch over Spyro from a distance charged into the open space, surrounding him. The purple dragon hardly reacted to their presence at all, appearing completely calm and confident in his superiority.

"What are you doing here?" Spyro snarled menacingly, and Cynder looked over at him to see that he had advanced a few steps away from the fountain and had settled into a battle stance.

Nexus looked back at him and, when he saw the other purple dragon's aggressive posture, he gave a low chuckle.

"Now is that any way to greet family?" he snickered.

Another snarl rumbled out of Spyro's throat, and his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. Cynder could see the muscles beneath his scales bunching, as if he were ready to pounce at any moment, and when she looked into his eyes she was daunted by the hatred she saw in them. It was something she had never expected to see in him, yet there it was, burning with an intensity she had rarely seen in her life.

"I'm glad to see you're recovering well," Nexus continued, completely undeterred by Spyro's anger. "But that leg still looks a little rough."

He shot Cynder a dark smirk as he said those last words, and after her surprise passed she felt a swell of fury explode through her, and she snarled sharply before taking up a fighting stance beside Spyro.

"You had better leave before I tear you to pieces for what you've done," she snapped menacingly.

Her fury only deepened when she heard him laugh at her remark.

"Oh, relax, will you?" he snickered. "I'm just here to deliver a message. But if you'd rather try and take me on, I'd be more than willing to go along with it."

Cynder snarled again, and she tensed as she began drawing on her elemental powers, readying herself to dive into the shadows and attack the intruder from below. Beside her she could sense Spyro getting ready to attack as well.

Just before they could make their move, the sound of heavy wing beats reached them from the west, and everyone in the courtyard looked up to see the guardians and Sirius diving toward them, apparently having heard the sound of Nexus's portal. When they landed and saw the purple dragon in the centre of the courtyard, looks of shock and noticeable fear came over their expressions.

"Well, isn't this convenient?" Nexus smirked. "Now I don't have to worry about if the message gets delivered properly."

"Message?" Terrador repeated in confusion, even as he tensed his body in preparation for a conflict. "What message?"

"Yes, please, do share," Cyril growled. "Although personally I'm not sure you deserve the chance to speak."

Nexus merely shrugged. "Maybe, but I have a feeling this is something you want to know."

"Then get on with it," Cynder snarled.

"Alright, alright," Nexus said quickly, motioning with a paw defensively. Then he gave a large sigh. "Look, I'll make this quick. As we speak, my forces are subduing any last resistance at the village in the mountains. Every dragon in that village is now my prisoner."

Cynder jolted back in shock, and she heard several gasps from the guards and the guardians.

"What have you done to them?" Terrador demanded.

"Relax," Nexus said reassuringly. "As long as they're sensible, no one is going to be hurt. For the time being, at least, but then that's where you all come in. Specifically, you, Spyro."

"What do you want with me?" Spyro snapped.

"It's too much to explain right now, I'm afraid, but it will all make sense in time. This, however, means that we need a better place to talk without any..." He glanced around at the guards that had him surrounded and scowled. "...interruptions. So, getting to my point; I want you to come face me in the mountains. It would be preferable if you came alone, but let's be realistic here; that's not going to happen. So, I'm going to make this really simple for you all."

He turned his gaze toward the guardians, and as he did his expression darkened with a grim air of seriousness.

"I'm giving you all three days. Do whatever you want in that time. Gather an army. Prepare your forces. I don't care. _But_, if you're not at that village by the end of those three days, every dragon that I have prisoner will die."

The guardians gasped again, and Terrador especially looked horrified.

"You're a monster!" he exclaimed.

"You've forced my hand," Nexus growled bitterly. "I didn't want for it to come to this, but I'm starting to get desperate. If you don't want anything to happen to those dragons, I suggest you don't be late. After that, their deaths are on your heads."

He straightened, casting one last glance around the courtyard before his gaze settled on Spyro. A bitter scowl settled over his features.

"Don't keep me waiting, brother."

Then, before anyone could say or do anything else, another swirling portal suddenly appeared behind him, and in one hasty motion Nexus spun around and jumped through it.

With a rumbling crash, the portal collapsed and plunged the city into silence once again.

Behind Cynder, Sparx glanced about nervously before speaking in a small, tight voice.

"Now what?"

* * *

><p><strong>Ugh...I think I even confused myself having two Flash's in the same scene...Sorry about that X)<strong>

**And oh boy, Nexus is at it again, but this time he's not fooling around. What's Spyro going to do?**

**Find out in the next chapter. Until next time...**


	30. Chapter 29

**Hey, look! I'm alive!**

**Yikes, over two weeks since I've updated. Well, sorry for the wait. I really don't have an excuse. I just didn't work on this as much as I would have liked to.**

**Anyway, it's here and it's done. We're moving into the final stretch of this story. Let's see how things turn out...  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 29:<span>_

Barely two hours had passed since Nexus had appeared within the city, but already Warfang had become a scene of frantic chaos.

From his current vantage point below the steps of the temple, Spyro sat in a state of mild shock as he looked out over the city and saw guards from both Warfang and the eastern city scrambling to array themselves in defensive positions and spread word to the rest of the guards about what had just transpired. Though Nexus hadn't indicated that he had any intention of attacking Warfang again, the guardians didn't want to take any chances.

Already the ramparts along the wall were packed with moles rushing into their assigned positions, as well as several dragons, and the northern courtyard behind the broken main gate was rapidly filling with more guards, the temporary barricades that had been erected in the breach in the wall being quickly reinforced by bracing timbers and whatever other materials could be found.

And all around the city, patrols were ensuring that the streets were clear and that Nexus wasn't lurking somewhere within the walls. His apparent ability to create portals at will meant that none of their defences could keep him out of the city if he wanted to enter it again. He could be anywhere, and the guards knew it.

Perched atop the low wall that ran around the temple grounds high in the centre of the city, Spyro had an unobstructed view of all of this. Seeing the commotion caused him to feel strangely unsettled inside. He hadn't felt happy since waking up in the infirmary, but he had at least been able to feel a small sense of peace as days passed without any danger and without disturbance. Now, to have that so suddenly torn away caused a twinge of loss within him.

That feeling was dwarfed by another, though. The appearance of Nexus in the city, so bold and mocking, filled him with a deeply simmering anger the likes of which he hadn't felt before. His claws clenched against the stone beneath his feet, and for a brief moment he imagined that it wasn't stone but the other purple dragon's scales that his talons were digging into. The image was gone just as quickly as it came, but it left a strange sort of desire within him.

_He deserves to suffer the way he made me suffer_, he thought darkly.

Just then he was suddenly jolted from his thoughts when a soft voice sounded from a short distance to his left.

"This is terrible," Faren said anxiously, staring out at the frantic activity in the city beside as she, Cynder and Flash all sat along the low wall with the purple dragon. "What do you think the guardians are going to do?"

"Go after him, I hope," Cynder growled, her expression twisted into a dark scowl much like Spyro's. "What he did to Spyro was unforgivable enough, but now this? Dragging an entire village of dragons that have nothing to do with this fight into this again?"

At the mention of the village, Spyro's anger waned for a brief moment as concern washed over him, and he turned his gaze over to his right where Flash was sitting with a tense look in his bright blue eyes. He noticed Spyro looking at him and met his gaze for a few seconds before giving a small sigh and looking out over the city again. While Spyro bore no love of the dragons in that village for what they did to him, that _was_ Flash's home—or used to be at least—and deep down inside of him, beneath the anger, he didn't want the young white dragon to be hurt any more than he had been already.

A sudden scuffle of paws on stone behind him caused him to look back over his shoulder in confusion, and as soon as he had done so the three guardians and Sirius came rushing through the door of the temple and came to a stop at the base of the steps, where they all turned to face each other. It was obvious that they were discussing something, and by the looks of seriousness in their eyes Spyro got the impression that it was of importance.

Seized by a feeling of suspicion and curiosity, Spyro rose quickly to his feet and jumped off the bordering wall of the courtyard, gliding toward the guardians as far as he possible could before landing to give his leg as much of a rest as possible. At first his friends seemed surprised by the sudden action, but they quickly composed themselves and hurried after him, running to catch up with him as he half ran, half staggered over to the larger dragons. As he approached, he was able to begin making out some of what they said.

"...Mason to being splitting the Guard into divisions," Terrador was saying.

"Have the guards that are selected to depart for the village meet in the western courtyard," Cyril said, turning to face the earth guardian. "I figure that's as good a place as any to use as a staging area before we depart." Then he turned his head toward the younger fire dragon. "If you could go and speak to your father now about volunteering some of his Guard forces for this endeavour, it would be appreciated, young dragon."

"Yes, Master Cyril," Sirius replied with a firm nod of his head.

The fire dragon quickly spun around and spread his wings to take off. As he did, his eyes fell on Spyro and his companions approaching and he paused for a brief moment before giving a nod in greeting. Spyro was too focussed on what was happening to return the gesture, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Faren give a nod in reply. Then Sirius took to the sky, making for the northern section of the city where the eastern city dragons were accommodated.

"I'll start coordinating with Mason to organize a defensive strategy for the city as well," Terrador rumbled once the fire dragon had departed. "Since Nexus can bypass our walls without any difficulty, we can't focus our forces there like we did before."

"That will make an effective defence of Warfang most difficult," Volteer pointed out grimly.

"I know," Terrador sighed. "But I don't see what choice we have."

"Agreed," Cyril nodded. "Are you sure you don't want to leave more of the guards here to defend the city instead of sending so many for the mountains?"

"No," Terrador replied immediately. "Securing the safety of that village needs to be our primary concern at the moment. It's unlikely at any rate that Nexus will attack here when he has the advantage in the mountains, with a foothold established and us venturing into unfamiliar turf."

Cyril looked as though he was about to reply, but the sound of rapidly beating wings interrupted him, and the three guardians turned their heads to see a lightly armoured guard dragon descending toward them from the south. He landed heavily a few feet from them before moving closer to Volteer and speaking to him in a hushed voice that Spyro and his companions weren't able to overhear. When he was finished, a grim look came over the electricity guardian's face.

"Well, it was foreseeable, but it is discouraging and disheartening to say the very least," he declared with a tight expression as he turned to face his associates once more, the guard departing at the same time. "The northern city elders have returned out request for assistance in this most urgent and imperative operation with a blatant, unmannerly, unyielding refusal. Apparently their chief elder has deemed our authority to be undeserved and unjustified, and he will commit none of his forces to assist in any cause of ours until, as he put it, we have dealt with our 'internal' issues first."

He glanced ever so briefly at Spyro as he said this, and the purple dragon felt himself stiffen as a fresh wave of anger seeped through him. Beside him he heard Cynder give a low growl at the back of her throat and go rigid as well, hatred flashing in her emerald eyes.

"That is troubling, but not unexpected as you said, Volteer," Terrador grunted. "I suppose there is nothing that can be done about it. We'll just have to make do with our own forces and whatever guards Tythos is willing to commit."

"Yes, at least we can count on his support," Cyril huffed.

"Oh, yes, I agree completely," Volteer said with a rapid nod.

"Very well then," Terrador said. "Cyril, when will you be planning to make your departure?"

"As soon as possible," the ice dragon replied without any hesitation. "As soon as the guards are gathered, we will set off. We can pause for final discussions on strategy and to organize ourselves once we're closer to our destination."

Terrador simply nodded in reply. "That probably is what's best. We should all get moving, then. Time is against us, and we have a deadline that we don't want to miss."

The other two guardians nodded their heads grimly, and they began moving to depart. Spyro, however, wasn't about to let them leave without any answers first. It seemed clear enough what they had been discussing from what he had already overheard, but he wanted to hear the full story from them. Just as they were about to leave, he stepped forward.

"What's going on?" he asked them.

The three elder dragons hesitated for a brief moment when they saw the look of intensity in the young purple dragon's eyes, and they exchanged tense glances amongst each other before Terrador finally gave a relenting sigh. He slowly squared himself to Spyro and the other young dragons.

"I suppose it does no good to keep you in the dark about this," he said. "We're preparing a force to move to the mountain village. Cyril and Sirius will be leading it while Volteer and I remain behind to secure the city."

"So we're going along with Nexus's demand, then," Cynder commented darkly.

"It would seem as though we have no alternative in this situation," Cyril replied with a grim nod. "We cannot risk jeopardizing the lives of a full village of dragons."

"Wait, you guys are serious?" Sparx exclaimed incredulously. "You all realize how bad of an idea that is, right? Does the word 'trap' mean anything to any of you?"

"As Cyril said, we don't see that we have a choice," Terrador replied firmly, though the tension in his demeanour was evident. "We have a responsibility to do everything in our power to protect the lives of those dragons."

"You must also take into consideration the fact that we are not entirely helpless in this instance either," Volteer added at a dizzying pace. "With the combined numbers of our own dragon guard forces and those that Tythos will undoubtedly commit to this cause, we can be confident, certain, assured, and positive that we will have the strength necessary to overcome whatever resistance the grublins are able to mount."

A short silence followed in which Spyro and his companions considered what the guardians had said. They exchanged a number of tense glances, and in the expressions of the other young dragons Spyro could see varying degrees of anxiety. Flash, especially, looked worried, and Spyro couldn't blame him given that the fate of his old home was at stake. Finally, Cynder stepped forward.

"What can we do to help?"

The guardians were silent for a moment as they considered the four young dragons standing before them, but then a small, tense smile curled at the corner of Terrador's muzzle.

"We had been hoping you would say something like that," he said.

Spyro was caught slightly by surprise by this response, but he quickly shook it off and gave the guardians his undivided attention.

"Firstly, Cynder," Cyril spoke up. "I had been meaning to ask you if you would accompany Sirius and I with the division bound for the village. Your expertise in tactical matters will of no doubt be beneficial, along with your abilities in battle."

Cynder merely gave a stiff nod of her head, a determined look in her eye.

"I'll do what I can."

"Good," Terrador said. Then he turned to Flash. "Now, normally my fellow guardians and I would never consider asking a dragon as young as yourself to participate in this sort of operation. However, your knowledge of the area would give the division a much better chance in the battle that is likely coming. We'll leave the decision up to you."

Flash faltered, and a look akin to panic flashed across his face for a brief moment before he forced a difficult swallow past a bout of fear. Then, with a bit of shakiness about the motion, he nodded his head.

"I'll do it," he said quietly. "That was my home, after all. I don't want to see it destroyed."

"I'm going too," Faren added quickly, though her voice was made unsteady by her nerves. "If Sirius is going, then so am I."

Another tense silence reigned for almost a full minute as the guardians directed stern gazes toward the young dragoness.

"You're certain?" Terrador asked her. "Because this is a dangerous mission we're talking about."

Faren looked far from certain, but nonetheless she nodded her head without any hesitation. Terrador sighed and turned a conflicted look toward the other guardians.

"It might be more prudent to alert your father of this decision before committing yourself to a cause that, as Terrador said, is more than likely to entail a great amount of danger and peril," Volteer suggested.

Faren's eyes widened in a panicked expression, and she quickly shook her head.

"But he would never let me go!" she protested. "He doesn't think that I'm strong enough for something like this."

The guardians hesitated, and as the tense silence drew on the look of dismay in Faren's expression continued to grow.

"And you don't believe that his concerns are justified?" Terrador asked cautiously.

Faren looked as if she had just received a physical blow, and in a weak voice she said, "You...you don't think that I'm strong enough either?"

Looks of guilt flashed across the guardians' faces, and again they hesitated. In this pause Faren's hopes seemed to shatter, and with a crestfallen sigh she allowed her head to droop toward the ground. However, while Faren appeared discouraged, Cynder looked as though the guardians' reluctance only fuelled a sense of anger and determination within her. Spyro watched as she stepped forward and fixed Cyril and Volteer with accusing glares.

"You really don't think she can handle this?" she asked harshly. "You've seen her in training. She's not weak by any means, so why are you so uncertain?"

Faren appeared surprised that Cynder had stepped in on her behalf, but she quickly turned an uncertain yet hopeful look up to the larger dragons. The guardians, meanwhile, looked as though they were slightly taken aback by Cynder's rebuke.

"It is not that we doubt her abilities," Cyril said finally. "Indeed, Hunter had nothing but good things to say about her skills in combat during the two times he's seen her in action."

"It is simply a matter of experience," Volteer added quickly, facing Faren directly. "While it cannot be denied that in the instances where you have found yourself engaged in combat you have handled yourself surprisingly well, the fact is still that in a battle you may be faced with difficult, unexpected, harrowing, and unsettling situations that can have severe and profound effects on a young dragon if they are to rush into such things before they are ready."

"We're simply concerned for your well-being," Terrador said gently.

Faren paused to consider the elder dragons' arguments, but only a few seconds later she looked up with a firm expression.

"I appreciate your concern, but...shouldn't that be my decision?" she asked quietly.

The guardians appeared taken by surprise by that question, and Terrador blinked a couple of times looking mildly stunned before he replied.

"Of course, Faren. We only meant—"

"Then I want to go," Faren cut in resolutely. "I would hate to be left behind while my friends are in danger. I can help, and I want to help. I know I might not seem like a strong dragoness, but I'm not someone that always needs to have others trying to look after me either. I can look after myself." She hesitated for a brief moment, struggling with her own uncertainty, but then she straightened up and tried to look as confident as she could manage. "I'm going."

Again the guardians appeared caught by surprise, but only a short moment later Spyro thought he saw an impressed glint in their eyes. A small smile formed at the corner of Terrador's muzzle, and after exchanging a final brief glance with his colleagues he turned to face Faren and nodded.

"Very well. If you're certain that this is what you want, then we won't deny you your chance. However, I do still feel that it would be best if your father were included on this decision. If you would like, one of us could go with you to vouch for you when you go to speak with him."

Faren's confidence seemed to waver at the mention of her father, and though she seemed pleased that the guardians had relented she still looked as though she was disheartened by the final condition of their decision. She sighed, but at length she nodded.

"Alright," she relented. "I guess if I have to..."

Terrador gave an approving nod. A brief silence fell between the gathered dragons as they all considered what lay before them, and in that time Spyro glanced around at his companions to see tense looks on all their expressions, though with Cynder it was veiled behind a calm, focussed determination that he didn't find at all surprising. Then he turned his gaze back up toward the guardians and stepped forward.

"So when do you want us to be ready to leave by?" he asked.

He faltered and gave a puzzled frown when he didn't receive an immediate answer. Instead, to his confusion, he saw a look of conflict and uncertainty in their eyes, and they exchanged almost helpless-looking glances with each other. Then, at length, Terrador released a tense breath and turned to meet Spyro's gaze again.

"Spyro, could you come with me please?" he said slowly. "There is something I would like to speak to you about."

Spyro's frown deepened when he caught the anxious note behind the guardian's tone, but nonetheless he eventually gave a small nod and followed after the large earth dragon as he turned away and began pacing farther out into the courtyard, leaving the other guardians and young dragons behind. Spyro was aware of his companions watching him depart with puzzled, anxious expressions, but he kept his attention focussed solely on Terrador and tried not to fall behind because of his slight limp. Finally, once the pair had travelled far enough that the temple's walls blocked them from view from the other dragons, Terrador stopped and turned to face Spyro again.

"What is it?" the young purple dragon asked with a hint of suspicion in his voice.

Terrador sighed, and Spyro felt himself growing more ill at ease when he noticed the look of reluctance on the guardian's features. Finally, though, he spoke.

"Spyro...the other guardians and I don't want you taking part in this mission."

Spyro didn't fully register what the massive green dragon had told him for several seconds, a numb feeling of surprise filling him, but slowly the words finally sunk in and the feeling was replaced by one of shock. He turned a stunned expression up at the guardian, confused and thoroughly caught off guard.

"What?" he managed to say.

Terrador let out another long breath, his expression becoming pinched.

"Cyril, Volteer and I have discussed this extensively for the past hour, and we have come to the decision that, given your present condition, it would not be a good idea to allow you to accompany Cyril and the attack division to the village."

"My present condition?" Spyro repeated slowly, a bitter scowl forming on his face.

Terrador nodded, a sad air about the motion. "Your leg. Such an injury means that you're in no condition to fight."

"I'm fine," Spyro growled immediately. "My leg won't slow me down."

"I understand that you want this badly, Spyro, but you need to be honest with yourself. Even if you don't think your injury is severe, even a slight disability in a battle can be fatal. A slight hitch in your step where there wouldn't normally be one. A shift in your stance to compensate for the weakened limb. Both of these provide easy opportunities for a skilled enemy to deliver a fatal blow. I know this isn't easy, but the risk is simply too great to allow you to go."

Spyro was shocked, and for a long moment all he could do was stare in disbelief up at Terrador. This didn't make any sense. Ever since he had first met Ignitus, the guardians had always turned to him for help in the direst situations, but now all of a sudden they were completely reversing their stance? Just because of a tiny limp, suddenly he wasn't good enough to fight with them?

"So, what, you think I'm just going to get in the way?" Spyro asked quietly, bitterness and anger swelling up within him, his expression hardening into an accusing glare. "I'm just a liability now, is that it?"

"Spyro, no!" Terrador protested instantly, a startled look in his expression. "That's not it at all. Our concern is solely for you. We don't want to risk losing you in battle, not when you aren't at your full strength."

"I've faced worse."

"We know, but this sort of injury is different. Take it from someone who has a lifetime of experience in battle, Spyro. A debilitating injury such as yours is the most difficult to overcome in a combat situation. It completely throws off your normal rhythm, and if you just charge into battle before you allow yourself to become accustomed to that, it could be disastrous. Please, just this once, don't take it upon yourself to deal with this crisis. Take this time to practice and adjust your style to compensate for your injury. Allow us to handle this instead."

"You wouldn't stand a chance without me!" Spyro snapped angrily. "You're going up against another purple dragon! What makes you think you can defeat him when you couldn't stop the last one without me? I _need_ to be there!"

Terrador sighed heavily, his gaze dropping to the ground, but he remained firm.

"That's exactly why we cannot risk losing you, Spyro. You have to see that you going with the division is exactly what Nexus wants. He's trying to get to _you_, Spyro. You're his target. If you go, you would be walking right into his paws."

"I don't care," Spyro growled. "I need to be the one to face him."

Terrador didn't miss the dark edge in Spyro's voice, nor the coldness that had entered his glare, and his expression became more sombre.

"And I have no doubt you will," he said firmly. "But not now. Wait until your leg has strengthened and your anger has cooled so that you stand your best chance of beating him when you do come up against him."

"I don't need to wait! I can face him now!"

"Spyro—"

"No! I'm strong enough to do this, and you _know_ that your only chance of beating Nexus is if I'm there!"

"Maybe that's true, but then defeating Nexus isn't the primary goal of this mission. Assuring the safety of those villagers is. We don't need you for that."

Spyro faltered, a feeling of shock and even hurt shooting through him. "You don't...You don't _need_ me?" Then his anger flared up again, and he shouted, "Why don't you think that I can do this? You've never doubted me before, so why is it that the _one time_ I really want to go out and fight, you won't let me? Can't you see that I _need_ to do this? I have to face him! After everything that he did to me, I can't just let him get away!"

"Spyro, enough of this!" Terrador snapped harshly. "Revenge will not gain you anything! Yes, he did terrible things in your name, and yes, what he did to you is unforgivable, but seeking the blood of another to end your own pain is never the right thing to do! It will not make you feel any better, Spyro."

"How do you know?"

"As I have said, I've had far too much experience in matters of combat and death. I've seen dragons travel the path you're considering, and it never brought healing to them, no matter how sure they were that it was the only way. Anger only causes more pain. It never helps you."

"Maybe my anger makes me stronger."

A guarded look came across Terrador's features, and in a grim, tense voice he said, "Indeed, but rage is no way to win a battle. It may make you seem stronger in the moment, but it will also leave you vulnerable. Trust me in this, Spyro. I have seen far too many good warriors give in to anger, only for it to be their undoing. A clear head is what's needed."

Spyro snorted, not believing the earth guardian at all but not bothering to try and argue any further. He simply fixed the larger dragon with a hard glare, desperate to accompany the division heading for the mountains but beginning to feel helpless to convince the guardians to let him.

"I am sorry, Spyro, but this decision is final," Terrador sighed. "You cannot take part in this battle. You're just going to have to accept that."

"Accept it?" Spyro blurted incredulously. "How can I just accept this? You just told me that you don't want my help, and that you won't let me fight when I want nothing else, and I'm supposed to just swallow it?"

"I understand that this is difficult," Terrador said sadly, "but it's for the best. I'm sorry. Now, I have business with Mason that I must attend to."

Spyro could only watch helplessly with hurt and anger swirling within his heart as Terrador stepped around him and moved out into a more open part of the courtyard, spreading his wings wide to take to the air. Then, with one last, apologetic glance backward, he leapt into the sky and was off, leaving Spyro to grapple with his own emotions.

For several minutes, Spyro simply sat there alone in the courtyard, staring into the sky after Terrador and struggling with his feelings of anger and betrayal. At length, though, the storm within him grew too strong for him to remain still any longer, and with a bitter snarl he rose to his feet and began storming off toward the northern edge of the courtyard.

As he rounded the edge of the temple he caught sight of Cyril and Volteer still speaking to Cynder, Faren, Flash and Sparx. They all looked up when they noticed him approaching, and almost immediately Cynder rushed forward to greet him, no doubt curious about what Terrador had spoken with him about, but she seemed to falter when she saw the dark scowl on his face.

"Spyro?" she asked anxiously as he passed her by. "What is it? What did Terrador say?"

Spyro paused for a second, considering if he should answer, but in the end he simply gave a bitter snort before turning his head away again and continuing on his way. Behind him, Cynder exchanged a puzzled, worried look with Faren, Flash and Sparx, but it seemed as if none of them had any idea how to respond.

Only a minute later Spyro had left the temple grounds behind him and had climbed the stairs to the top floor of the residence building. After roughly shoving the door to his room open he stepped inside before turning and slamming the door shut with a forepaw, plunging the room into near total darkness, sealing him away where he could brood on his own bitterness and hurt without any interruption, feeling more helpless and useless than he ever had before...

***.*.***

As the time drew nearer to when Cyril wanted the division to depart for the mountains, Cynder found herself pacing restlessly in the western-most courtyard of the city, a locale most often used for festivals or gatherings of various kinds because of the expanse of open, flat space it provided, devoid of most of the decorative gardens or stonework that were prevalent throughout the rest of the city. This also made it an ideal place to gather a large force of dragons together in one place, and at that moment everyone that would be accompanying the division to the mountains was present, awaiting only the last final preparations to be complete before they could depart.

Cynder paused for a moment to look around at the dragons gathered around her. Most of them were guards from the eastern city, since Warfang's own dragon population was still severely depleted, and therefore they only had a handful of dragon guards to offer for the operation. As it was, the city's entire dragon division of guards was present, leaving the defence of Warfang in the hands of the moles.

Most of the dragons present were wearing armour, with the sturdy, simplistic style of the eastern city's armour contrasting strikingly with the more intricate, detailed and refined look of the Warfang guards' equipment, which had been mostly crafted by the skilled hands of the moles. She also saw a few familiar faces amongst the guards: she saw Raulk conversing with Cyril, while farther into the courtyard she caught sight of Pyruth speaking with a pair of his subordinates.

Sirius and Faren, meanwhile, were engaged in a hushed but intense conversation with their father. Cynder quickly noticed the look of tension and anxiety on Faren's face, and while Tythos's back was turned to her she could see the tension in his bearing as well. She began stealthily edging closer, wondering what they were saying.

"...Father, I'm sure about this," Faren was saying pleadingly. "I'm not going to change my mind. Please, can't you just let me do this?"

"I just don't understand why it has to be you," Tythos sighed in a strained voice. "The Guard can handle this, Faren. What is it that makes you so determined that you have to go as well?"

"I can't just stay behind while my friends all go," Faren replied, her gaze imploring. "Please, Father, I can do this."

Tythos released another long sigh, his gaze dropping to the ground and his brow furrowing with tension and conflict. Cynder, meanwhile, felt a pang of sympathy when she saw the look of desperate longing on Faren's face. She hoped dearly that the red dragoness wouldn't be denied the chance to prove herself in this mission and to help her friends.

The other young dragoness's words echoed in her head again, and when they did Cynder faltered.

_...Stay behind while my friends all go..._

A swell of sadness rushed through her, and Cynder let out a mournful sigh as she allowed her gaze to drop to the ground before her paws. Faren wasn't the only one with those concerns on her mind, but at least she still had a good chance of avoiding such a fate, unlike a certain other dragon.

Almost as soon as she had this thought, Cynder noticed a glint of colour out of the corner of her vision, and she looked up quickly to see a lone dragon sitting in the shadowed opening of an alleyway on the eastern edge of the courtyard. He was gazing out longingly at the dragons within the open space, preparing to set off on a journey that he was forbidden to take.

With slow, uncertain motions, Cynder turned and walked over to the courtyard's boundary. Spyro's eyes quickly locked onto her as she approached him, and when they did Cynder faltered briefly, for within them she caught a glimpse of the torrential emotions that the purple dragon was struggling with in that moment. Then, when she was only a couple of feet away from him she drew to a halt. She glanced briefly up at Sparx, who was hovering by his brother's horn, before her eyes settled firmly on the other dragon.

For several long moments she didn't have even the slightest idea of what she could possibly say to him, unable to imagine the turmoil that he was experiencing. At length, though, when the silence grew more oppressive than she could bear, she simply forced out the first words that came to mind.

"I wish there was something I could do," she told him. "This isn't right."

"No, it's not," Spyro replied bitterly, his jaw grinding with tension and frustration. "Trying to take down a purple dragon without one on their side, and without all the _guardians_ even being there..." He trailed off before sighing heavily and shaking his head. "This isn't a good idea."

"I know," Cynder said quickly. "I wish you were coming with us, Spyro. It doesn't feel right, going off to fight without you beside me, not after what we've been through. But..." She hesitated, fearing how Spyro might react to what she was going to say, but then she continued, "But the guardians are right, too. I would hate to see you get hurt out there, Spyro."

Spyro gave a small, bitter huff, and it looked as if he was about to make some kind of argument but instead he eventually just let out a long, tense breath, his hard gaze sweeping over the ranks of dragon guards preparing to leave the city.

"They think they're protecting me," he muttered. "But if Nexus really wants me, he could come and get me here any time. Leaving me behind won't change anything."

A jolt of fear shot through Cynder's veins at those words, for she realized that he was right. With his portals, the other purple dragon would easily be able to breach the city's defenses and reach Spyro while their defences were weakened with the absence of so many guards. She was just about to suggest that she bring that matter up with Cyril, but before she could Spyro cut her off, fixing her with a hard gaze.

"Just promise me something," he said suddenly.

Cynder was caught by surprise by the intensity in his voice and the unexpected request, but finally she collected herself and nodded.

"Anything."

Spyro's gaze darkened marginally, and in a quiet voice he said, "If you see him..."

He seemed unable to put his next feelings into words, but it was plain enough from his bearing what it was he meant, and Cynder felt her own expression hardening before she gave a firm nod of her head.

"I won't let him get away from me," she promised. "Not after what he's done to you."

Spyro held her with a studying gaze for a long moment before he gave a small nod in reply. Just then, Cynder heard a call rise from the centre of the courtyard. It was Cyril.

"Alright now, everyone," the ice guardian called out in a commanding tone. "Let's organize ourselves quickly. The time has come to depart."

Cynder glanced back toward the courtyard to see the guards quickly falling into ranks, readying themselves to depart. Pyruth was pacing along the lines of eastern city guards in a brief final inspection, while Cyril and the other guardians were exchanging a few final words in the courtyard's centre.

"I guess I should go," Cynder sighed, turning back to face Spyro and feeling a pang of severe reluctance in her heart. "I promise I'll be back as soon as I can."

Spyro gave a small grunt, glancing only briefly toward her before returning his gaze to the activity in the courtyard. Just as she was turning to depart, though, he suddenly spoke up.

"Just...be careful."

Cynder paused and turned a mildly surprised look back toward the purple dragon, but then she allowed a small, half-hearted smile to form at the corner of her lips. Then she inclined her head in acknowledgement before she hurried out into the courtyard again, working her way through the packed bodies of dragons until she was relatively close to the courtyard's centre, where Cyril was standing. Her eyes quickly found Flash and she moved over to join him, and only a moment later Sirius and Faren approached from behind them. Cynder turned a quizzical gaze toward the red dragoness, and Faren gave a small nod in reply to the unspoken question. Cynder smiled, glad that Faren was at least allowed to join them.

"Alright, listen up everyone," Cyril exclaimed at the top of his lungs, and the courtyard immediately fell silent, every head turning toward the guardian. "The time has come to make our departure. We make for Avalar. We should be able to make it to the northern edge of the valley by nightfall, and we'll rest there for the night before continuing north to the mountains. If any of you have any remaining qualms about taking part in this mission, now is the time to make them known."

There was silence for several seconds as the large ice dragon studied the guards gathered around him, waiting for them to voice any lingering doubts or concerns. When no such protests came, he gave a sharp, satisfied nod.

"Very good," he said approvingly. "Let's not delay any longer then. Off to Avalar."

"I wish you luck," Terrador said as he watched his colleague turning to depart. "Be careful."

"Indeed. The more caution the better, given the foe we're up against. But not to worry, I'm sure we'll be back with the dragons from the village in no time. Take care until then."

Then, with that, Cyril was off. The air was filled with the thundering sound of many, many wings beating as dragons all across the courtyard took to the sky, pounding their wings rapidly to gain altitude with their armour weighing them down. Cynder leapt easily into the sky and quickly passed most of the other dragons as she propelled herself higher into the sky, Flash and Faren keeping pace around her while Sirius pulled ahead to join Cyril in the lead.

When she reached a fair height she levelled off, pulling into a wide circle and looking back toward the courtyard. There she quickly caught sight of Spyro, still sitting in the mouth of the dark alley with the small pinprick of golden light that was Sparx floating beside him. She felt a twinge of sadness in her heart when she saw the look of deep longing still in his eyes, and she wished more than anything in that moment that he could be making that journey with her.

Working past her emotions, Cynder gave a final nod to the purple dragon in farewell before turning away with great difficulty and beating her wings rapidly to catch up with the division that was pulling away to the west. Then, with Flash and Faren keeping pace off her wings, she fell into position with the rest of the guards and focussed her mind on the flight ahead of them.

A feeling of hard determination entered her, and to Cynder, one thing in that moment was becoming certain. If she got the chance, she would see to it that Nexus paid dearly for all the pain that he had caused.

No matter what the cost, she would not fail Spyro again.

***.*.***

A savage roar shook the air within the arena, and a split-second later a blazing beam of convexity tore clear through a cluster of grublin training dummies that were just beginning their charge. Three of the six dummies were vaporized immediately, while the surviving ones were tossed like rag-dolls through the air with severe scorch marks covering their bodies. These dummies crumbled into nothingness as soon as they hit the ground.

In the centre of the arena, Spyro stood panting from the past hour's exertion in the arena, battling against ever-increasing waves of grublin dummies in a vain attempt to quell the boiling anger that had been swelling within him over the course of the afternoon and evening. The city had been eerily quiet ever since Cyril's division of dragon guards had departed, leaving him behind with only his thoughts to accompany him, and now he wanted nothing more than to escape them.

He was having no success.

He paused for a short moment and closed his eyes, focussing deeply as he called up another wave of training dummies. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself surrounded by two dozen grublins, including the standard land-bound and airborne varieties, as well as some of the larger, more armoured variants.

With ear-splitting shrieks they charged, swinging their various weapons in front of them and ready to cut the long purple dragon to pieces. Spyro watched them come with unmoving intensity, his talons clenching against the stone floor beneath his paws and his muscles bunching in preparation to pounce. Then, when the grublins were almost upon him, he leapt.

The grublins on his left gave startled cries as he sprang over their heads with surprising speed. Then, while they were still collecting themselves, Spyro angled his body downward and flapped as hard as he could, propelling himself toward the ground and surrounding himself in a shroud of green earth energy at the same time. He struck the ground with bone-rattling force right at the feet of the grublins, and a huge wave radiated outward through the floor at the impact, throwing the nearest grublins into the air and unbalancing the rest.

Spyro felt his jaw grinding as pain lanced up from his left foreleg from the jolt of hitting the ground, but he tried to ignore it, determined not to let it hinder him.

With another vicious roar, the purple dragon leapt forward and performed a Comet Dash right through the centre of the group of grublins, scattering them and setting several of them alight. The burning grublins emitted shrill screams of pain and began racing blindly about the arena, flailing their limbs helplessly as angry red flames consumed them. On two occasions one of the burning grublins collided with one of their un-singed companions, setting them on fire as well.

With their numbers now reduced by about half, the remaining grublins quickly spread out to try and surround Spyro before he could take the rest of them out. Spyro was quicker, however, and within seconds of completing his Comet Dash he spun around and froze two of the dummies solid with his ice breath. An earth missile dispatched a third.

The fourth caused him more trouble. It was one of the larger, skinnier, armoured grublin soldiers wielding a long, wickedly sharp axe-like weapon, and just as Spyro turned to face it he felt a jolt of surprise and fear run through him when he saw the blade of the weapon swinging right for him. He ducked as low to the ground as he could and felt a rush of air as the axe sliced just past his horns. Then he leapt up and lunged forward, lashing out with his talons and trying to land a hit while his opponent was off balance.

The grublin was too quick, however. While unbalanced, it was still able to deflect Spyro's attack with the shaft of its weapon. Then, at the same time that Spyro landed on the ground, the grublin swung its axe again and the base of the shaft smacked soundly down on top of the poison scar on the purple dragon's foreleg.

Spyro yelped and staggered back as sharp pain shot up from his damaged limb, his expression pinched as he struggled to subdue the stabbing ache. He glared up at the grublin and saw it squaring itself to him, grasping its weapons in both its gnarled hands and preparing to attack again. Then, suddenly, Spyro heard Terrador's earlier words echoing in his mind.

'_A disability in battle could be fatal...'_

'_You're in no condition to fight.'_

Boiling anger flooded through his veins, and a low, rumbling growl rolled out from his throat as his talons dug into the stone floor of the arena. The grublins surrounding him faltered at the burning look in his eyes, and their fear grew when bolts of electricity began snapping along his scales.

"I. Am not. A liability!" Spyro snarled furiously through clenched fangs.

A tremendous surge of electricity burst out from his body, accompanied by a deafening roar, and the grublin dummies screamed as voltage ripped through them, rendering their limbs numb and unresponsive as pain tore through their beings. Then, while they were still stunned, Spyro spun around and incinerated two flying grublins with his fire breath before slaying two more with spears of ice through their chests. Three more were felled by his teeth and talons before they could recover from his shock, leaving only one left; the one that had hit him.

The grublin was able to utter little more than a strained gasp of fear before a focussed beam of convexity tore a hole right through its armoured chest. Almost like in slow motion it tipped weakly over backward, all life leaving its form. Spyro watched the dummy break apart into dust before it even hit the ground.

With the arena once again clear of enemies, Spyro spent a moment to catch his breath. While he struggled to calm his feverish panting, he looked down and slowly clenched his left forepaw, stretching out the tight muscles beneath his scar and trying to work the lingering pain out of the joint. It still ached from the blow the grublin had delivered to it, and Spyro winced as a sharp twinge shot up from it.

_I won't let this weaken me,_ he thought defiantly. _I'm not some cripple!_

When after a few minutes more he had gotten his breathing back under control, Spyro realized resignedly that his feelings of hurt and bitterness weren't things he could simply beat out of himself in the arena. With a long, reluctant growl he turned toward the nearest exit and began pacing slowly toward it. As he approached a mole attendant standing just past the leading edge of the stands straightened. Spyro noticed a look of mild anxiety on his features, but paid it little mind.

When Spyro had arrived at the arena, the mole had quickly moved out to greet him, saying that the guardians had instructed that if he was going to use the arena to train, someone was required to be present and ready to offer assistance in the event that anything might go wrong. Spyro hadn't bothered to argue with the mole, but it had caused another swell of sourness within him. First the guardians wouldn't let him participate in the rescue of the mountain village, and now they had moles babysitting him? Was one injury really enough to make them lose all confidence in him?

"You're done?" the mole asked after a brief pause, appearing slightly surprised.

"Yeah," Spyro sighed. "Wasn't helping anyway."

The mole gave a small grunt and a nod before he stepped to the side to allow Spyro to pass more easily.

"Is there anything else you need?"

Spyro paused mid-step and glanced sidelong at the mole, his expression stern.

"I can look after myself."

The mole looked taken aback by the edge in Spyro's voice, and all he could do was stare dumbly as the purple dragon gave a gruff snort and pushed past him into the corridor.

As he walked, Spyro was only dimly aware of his surroundings. Mostly, he was sensitive only to the feeling of anxiety and tension that seemed to have swept over the city. While he was walking through the temple grounds—the shortest way for him to get to his room from the arena—he was aware of just how quiet the city truly had become. With all of the dragon guards from Warfang gone with Cyril, only moles and the remaining third of the Eastern City Guard's forces were left to defend Warfang from any potential assaults, and only a few of them were visible to the purple dragon now as he overlooked the city.

The quiet was unnerving. Spyro was only too aware, just as he had said to Cynder before she left, that if Nexus really wanted to, there was nothing stopping him from breaking into the city himself to get to him. The guardians thought that they were keeping him safe by preventing him from travelling into the mountains, but in truth, nowhere was safe for him anymore. Not while Nexus was still free to go about his plans freely, whatever they were.

The other purple dragon was heavy on Spyro's mind as he eventually reached his chambers and settled slowly down onto his bed of cushions, weary from his short but intense workout in the arena. Countless questions swirled about within his mind, practically making him dizzy from their intensity. Who was Nexus really? Where did he come from? Was he really Spyro's brother, or was the claim just some ploy to unsettle him?

Most of all, one question dominated his mind.

Who was the 'master' that Nexus had spoken of?

_Our master_, Spyro thought numbly, a strange, confused feeling growing within him. _Could it be...?_

A scene from a past dream suddenly flared up in his memory: an indistinct figure, his features veiled in shadow save for his horrible red eyes, gazing up at him through the pool of visions in the old temple. In his mind, Spyro could hear his cold, terrible voice.

'_Soon you will be mine again...'_

A violent shudder ran through the length of Spyro's body as a jolt of fear and uncertainty seized him, but almost immediately he smothered it beneath a surge of anger and defiance. He _refused_ to believe that he was subject to some greater power. It had been unsettling enough, being told that he was truly nothing more than an instrument in an ancient prophecy, following a long-foretold path to bring stability back to the world—or so the dragons that he had trusted had claimed.

But now, to be told that he was meant to be submissive to someone, or something, out there that he didn't know about, and that by extension, his purpose was somehow intertwined with Nexus's, was more disconcerting and even frightening than anything he had considered before. It reminded him far too much of what Malefor had told him when they had faced off in the dark purple dragon's floating stronghold.

_No!_ Spyro shouted within his own mind, his jaw clenching and his talons tightening against the cushions of his bed, threatening to tear the soft fabric apart. _None of it is true! _I_ decide my own fate, not anyone else, and _certainly_ not Malefor or Nexus!_

His anger continued to build as he saw the other young purple dragon's mocking smirk in his mind. Nexus had already torn so much away from him, but even now that he was gone Spyro still couldn't find peace. Because of him, he wasn't sure who he could truly call a friend anymore. Because of him, he was too afraid of being hurt again to allow himself to feel close to the dragoness he had loved, leaving him feeling hollow and incomplete. And now, because of him, the lives of an entire village of dragons was resting on him undertaking a journey that the guardians wouldn't allow him to take—dragons that had tortured and attacked him.

It left him feeling confused and uncertain. He didn't know if he _wanted_ the dragons of the mountain village to be saved after what they had done, but he _knew_ that he didn't want Flash to have to bear any more loss after all that he had already endured. And even if the dragons of the mountains had hurt him tremendously, deep within him he still knew that he couldn't just sit idly by while the lives of others were on the line. He may be bitter and angry, but his need and desire to protect others was too deeply rooted in his being to just disappear.

"What am I supposed to do?" Spyro roared into his empty room, his confusion and anger boiling over.

An image of Nexus flashed in his mind again, and Spyro gave a low growl deep within his throat. That purple dragon was the cause of all his pain, the reason that he was now barely more than a prisoner in what should have been his home and isolated from everyone that he had held close to him. If not for Nexus, he may have been enjoying peace and rest for the first time since learning what he was, sharing in the respite from danger and chaos with a dragoness that cared for him. Now, instead, everything was falling apart.

Cold, hard determination coursed through him, and slowly Spyro lifted his gaze from his clenched paws. It was now quite clear to him that the only solution there was ever going to be to this problem was to get rid of the dragon that had caused it all. Bitter resolve entered him, and he rose to his feet. First Malefor, then Nexus. It was starting to seem as though his kind couldn't be trusted. Maybe that was why everyone had been so quick to lose faith in him.

Well, at least he could do something to mend the damage those of his colour had wrought.

With a firm air of purpose about his steps, Spyro pushed through the door of his chamber and left the residence building behind him, ignoring all else as he strode down the street to his new destination. He paid no mind to the few nervous-looking moles and dragons he passed in the streets. Likewise, he didn't stop to acknowledge his persisting limp, which was slowly improving but was still quite noticeable.

Soon enough his destination came into view ahead, and without pause he entered and climbed the steps, stopping only once he had reached a small doorway. Inside he could hear muffled voices, but he didn't stop to try and discern what was being said. Instead he simply pushed the door open with a forepaw.

"Spyro," his mother blurted, stunned, when the door swung open and she beheld the purple dragon standing stiffly in the corridor beyond. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

Spyro delayed answering for a moment as his eyes swept over his parents' temporary room. Flash and Sparx were there with Nina, and it seemed as though they had all been discussing something amongst each other, though what that was, Spyro didn't know. They all looked quite surprised to see him there, to say the least, and he quickly detected the notes of unease in their expressions when they saw the grim, purposeful air about his posture.

"I just came to tell you that I'm leaving," he said at length, his gaze and voice hard. "I just can't stay behind here any longer. I have to end this."

"End...Honey, what do you mean?" Nina asked fearfully, clearly unsettled.

"Where are you going?" Sparx added quizzically.

"After the division," Spyro replied simply.

"The division?" Sparx exclaimed. "Are you serious? Spyro, those guys can handle themselves. They told you to stay here! You don't have to do anything."

"Yes I do," Spyro said with a stubborn shake of his head. "This isn't going to end, not while Nexus is still out there. He isn't going to stop until he gets to me, and until that happens everyone that gets in his way or that he can use against me is in danger. I have to face him. While both of us are still around, this will never be over."

Those last words seemed especially alarming to his parents, and Flash drew back with a look of mild shock on his small features while Nina gave a weak gasp.

"Spyro, what are you saying?" she asked uneasily.

"Things can't keep going like this," Spyro told her with a sigh. "I can't take it. No matter how it ends, whether he comes out on top or I do, this has to stop. If he wants me to come to him, then that's what I'll do."

"But Spyro, your leg!" his father protested. "How will you fight him if you do go face him?"

"I'm not helpless," Spyro said determinedly. "I was worn down from fighting when I faced Malefor too, and I'll bet anything that Nexus isn't as strong as he was, but I defeated him."

"You had help then, though," Sparx pointed out nervously.

"It doesn't matter. I've made up my mind. I just came to tell you before I left so you wouldn't worry when I just disappeared."

His parents hesitated, clearly conflicted and afraid, and they exchanged a worried look before both hovering slowly closer to the purple dragon, who was unwavering in his decision.

"Spyro...are you sure?" Nina asked him. "Why does it have to be you that has to do this? Why don't you just let your friends take care of it?"

"Because if the struggle against Malefor taught me anything, it's that an army of dragons isn't enough to bring a purple dragon down," Spyro said firmly. "I saw Nexus fighting in the temple courtyard when he attacked this city as me. Sirius and the three guardians could barely hold him off, and I doubt he was even trying his hardest."

"Cynder's there, though," Sparx pointed out. "She would probably give him a serious run for his money."

Spyro shook his head, his jaw set in a grim frown.

"I can't risk it. Cynder's strong, but I don't think a purple dragon can by matched by anything other than another purple dragon. There's no other way."

"Can't you at least wait until you're stronger?" Flash said in a final attempt to dissuade his son from his decision.

Spyro paused and let out a tense sigh, his gaze falling to the mangled scales on his left foreleg. It was a long moment before he spoke again.

"No. Even if Cyril and the division manage to rescue the dragons in the village, Nexus will just think of some other way to unbalance us. Time is something I just can't give him."

His parents exchanged another, almost despairing look between them, but at length they sighed heavily in resignation.

"You're sure about this," Nina said, not as a question but a statement.

Spyro nodded. "I have to do this."

"Well, then I guess there's nothing we can say to stop you," Flash sighed sadly.

"Just promise us you'll be careful, Spyro," Nina said with a sudden, pleading edge in her voice.

Spyro felt his hard mask of determination waver for a moment, caught by surprise by the fear and worry in his mother's voice and eyes. His feelings softened briefly, and despite himself he felt a weak, half-hearted smile of gratitude for his parents' concern tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I will," he promised with a nod of his head.

A sudden, forceful groan drew his attention, and with a puzzled frown he looked up to see that Sparx had been the source of the noise.

"Oh, I guess I'd better come along with you," he grumbled. "Someone's always got to keep an eye on you anyway on these crazy adventures of yours, so it might as well be me again."

"Sparx," Spyro began to protest, aware of the panicked looks that crossed his parents' expressions behind his brother, but the dragonfly promptly cut him off.

"Nuh-uh," he said harshly with a firm shake of his head. "Last time I let you out of my sight, this nightmare happened. I'm not letting that happen again. Face it, buddy; you're stuck with me."

"Sparx, are you sure about this?" Nina protested worriedly. "I mean, going to fight this 'Nexus', and those...those _things_..."

Sparx turned about and gave his parents a startled look.

"What, so it's okay for him to go, but I can't handle it?" he exclaimed.

"Well, there is the matter of me having four elements and convexity to defend myself," Spyro countered, "while you don't."

"And when has that stopped me before?" Sparx retorted, crossing his arms with a scowl on his face. "Face it, big boy, you need me out there. If you're going to go sneaking out of the city when the guardians _clearly_ grounded you, then you should at least have someone sensible coming with you."

For a moment Spyro could do nothing more than hold his brother's determined gaze, trying to think of some way to convince the dragonfly to stay behind where it was safer, but at length he realized that there was nothing he could say to change his brother's mind. He was just as determined to go as Spyro himself was, and nothing was going to change that. He couldn't help the small, fleeting grin that pulled at the corners of his muzzle as a resigned feeling of gratitude and amusement flitted through him.

"Fine, you can come."

A triumphant smirk spread across Sparx's features, and he gave a sharp nod of his head.

"Alright then, chief. What do you say we get this show on the road before the party's all over without us, huh?"

"Yeah, alright," Spyro snorted with a reluctant chuckle. "Let's go."

"Both of you, please, be careful," Nina pleaded as Spyro began to turn away, Sparx right beside him. "I cannot even begin to tell you how much trouble you'll be in if either of you don't come back to us."

"Got it," Sparx said quickly. "Don't worry, we'll be fine. Right Spyro?"

Spyro glanced toward his brother with a mildly doubtful look before turning his gaze toward his parents.

"We'll be careful," he assured them.

Then, without waiting to give his parents another chance to protest, Spyro turned away and departed down the hall, heading for the building's exit. Within only a couple of minutes he had taken to the sky and climbed rapidly until the thin clouds within the dark night sky covered him from sight from below. Then he angled his body westward toward Avalar and set off with Sparx right behind him.

They didn't stop at all that night, nor during the following day. When they reached the valley the sun had yet to rise the eastern horizon only just beginning to brighten, but even in the darkness Spyro was able to pick out the clear signs of an army having made camp in the hills of the valley's northern edge. The division itself was nowhere in sight, but Spyro felt confident that he would be able to catch up. So, ignoring the first hints of weariness in his wings, he continued northward toward the mountains.

The sun finally rose just as the mountain chain came into view, and from then on the flight was uneventful. Following a narrow valley between chains of peaks that would eventually join with the wider valley where Flash's village was located, there was nothing of interest for Spyro or Sparx to see except for the constant mountains on either side of them and the occasional trees below. Spyro resigned himself to just focus on his flying, and tried to ignore Sparx's grumbling about his boredom.

The valley finally began to widen as the afternoon wore on toward evening. As the sky darkened and the sun sank below the peaks of the western mountains, the land took on a dull greyish tinge, lit only by the pale glow of the moons overhead and the few stars poking through the clouds. Spyro slowed his pace, his eyes scanning the landscape below for any signs of the guard division.

"Do you think we missed them?" Sparx asked after looking at their surroundings and seeing nothing. "You don't have any idea where they were going to stop for the night, do you?"

"Nope," Spyro grunted in reply. "But it makes sense that they would stop somewhere around here, not too close to the area the grublins probably have under control but within easy reach. Just keep your eyes open."

Sparx gave a small grunt, and out of the corner of his eye Spyro saw the dragonfly raise a hand to his brow in a sarcastic salute, but he ignored it. Instead he kept his eyes trained on the ground below him, searching for anywhere that would make a good place to set up camp for a night. He was so focussed on his task that, a few minutes later, he was startled when Sparx suddenly called for attention.

"Hey, Spyro!" the dragonfly said insistently. "Look over there."

He pointed, and Spyro followed with his gaze. He was soon able to make out the shapes of two dragons gliding along the chain of peaks on their left, weaving around the steep cliffs and slopes of the mountains, clearly on some form of a patrol. A moment later it appeared that the approach of the mismatched pair of brothers was noticed when the two dragons veered sharply toward them and put on a burst of speed.

"So, what do you think?" Sparx asked as he and Spyro slowed their pace, watching the scouts drawing nearer to them. "Warm welcome?"

"Tough call, considering we're not supposed to be here," Spyro replied with a tone of indifference in his voice.

"Yeah, I guess."

They didn't have to wonder for long. Less than a minute after first being spotted, the two guard dragons swooped down upon them. One of them, a fire dragon wearing eastern city armour, flared his wings wide as he drew to a rapid halt directly in front of Spyro and Sparx, cutting them off and forcing them to brake hard as well. The second guard, an electricity dragon bearing armour from Warfang, came to a hover to the left and behind the pair of newcomers, clearly intending to prevent a retreat.

The expression on the face of the fire dragon rapidly changed from a challenging snarl to a look of surprise when he recognized the young dragon hovering before him, and in a slightly startled tone he asked, "You? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be back in Warfang."

"This is where I need to be," Spyro replied evenly. "I'm not just going to sit uselessly behind for this."

The guard hovering in front of him grunted and glanced over toward his partner. Then he locked his gaze on Spyro again.

"Well, I guess we'd better bring you to Master Cyril, then," he said finally. "I'm sure he'll have a great deal to say about this."

"Wait," the Warfang guard cut in suddenly, causing Spyro and Sparx to look back at him in confusion. On his face was a suspicious look. "How do we know you're really Spyro?"

Spyro faltered briefly, and in a slightly stunned voice he asked, "What?"

"Well, the guardians said that the dragon we're after now was somehow able to make himself look exactly like you," the guard said in an accusatory tone. "So how do we know you're who you say you are?"

Spyro was just about to make an indignant protest, but Sparx pre-empted him.

"I can vouch," the dragonfly declared, waving a hand in the air for attention. "This is my real bro."

The guards exchanged another skeptical glance. Then the guard blocking their way looked at Spyro again, and the purple dragon gave a firm nod.

"Just take me to see Cyril," he said.

The guards still hesitated, but at length they seemed to decide to take the purple dragon's and the dragonfly's words for it. Though there was still wariness heavy in their expressions and body language, the guards nonetheless agreed to guide Spyro to the camp. Spyro was forced to fly between them, almost like a prisoner, before the guards led him to the northwest over the line of mountains and into the adjacent valley. Only a short while later the faint glow of fires in the night came into sight, and Spyro was led down toward the slopes of the western line of mountains in the valley, where the division's camp was located. They landed soon afterward, and the eastern city guard dropped into a more defensive position while the Warfang guard strode ahead.

"This way," he said gruffly. "We'll take you to Cyril now."

***.*.***

"Well, then, provided that the advance scouts' reports show what we expect, does everyone know their roles for tomorrow?"

The ice guardian cast a studying gaze about the cramped hollow in the slope of the mountain that served as a makeshift briefing room, illuminated by a bed of brightly-glowing embers gathered together in the middle of the floor. Currently within the tight space, Cyril, Sirius, Raulk, Pyruth, Flash and Cynder were gathered, discussing a rough starting strategy for the engagement that was less than a day away. The plan was far from complete, with a great deal of fleshing out required once more information was available on the organization of Nexus's forces around the village, but they had a fairly solid start in place at least.

Cynder nodded her head firmly in response to Cyril's question, and afterwards she turned her head to the right to see Flash also nodding, though somewhat more nervously. He then glanced in her direction, and their gazes met for a brief instant in which she inclined her head, and he returned the gesture. The plan so far called for them to be working together, and though Cynder knew very little about the light dragon to this point, she felt confident enough that they would make a good team. He seemed capable enough, at least, and certainly wouldn't be a hindrance.

"Good," Cyril declared when everyone else within the cave had also answered in the affirmative. "Very good. Then I suggest everyone go and try to get some rest. We're in for a strenuous day tomorrow, I'd wager, and it simply won't do for any of us to be any less than—"

"Master Cyril."

The ice dragon tripped over his own tongue from the sudden interruption, and he quickly turned an accusing glare toward the mouth of the cave, where a dragon guard from Warfang was keeping watch to make sure no one eavesdropped on the strategy meeting. The earth dragon guard had poked his head into the cave and was gazing at Cyril with a steady expression, appearing undaunted by the harsh glare he was now receiving.

"What?" Cyril sniffed indignantly.

"I think you should come out here, sir," the guard replied, nodding with his head toward the exterior of the cave. "Someone to see you."

Cyril's only reply was a sharp grunt of, "Hmph," but nonetheless he turned toward the cave exit and paced out of the confined space. After exchanging curious looks with Sirius and Flash, Cynder followed, her two companions right behind her. Raulk and Pyruth also trailed after them, leaving the cave empty in their wake. Once through the cave opening, Cynder's view of the camp beyond was still obstructed by Cyril's bulk, so she quickly skirted around to his left. Her confusion mounted when she noticed the way he was rigid in surprise, but that was nothing compared to the next shock she received.

As soon as her eyes fell on the newcomer the guard had mentioned she was frozen in place by surprise, and for a long moment all she could do was stare at the figure before her until finally she found her voice again.

"Spyro?"

"Spyro?" Flash repeated in surprise, rushing up beside Cynder to see.

"By my ancestors, young dragon, what do you think you are doing here?" Cyril demanded, his face set in an icy scowl.

"Nice to see you too," came the unmistakable sarcastic voice of Sparx, and Cynder's eyes quickly found the glowing dragonfly hovering behind his brother, mostly out of sight from her angle but not entirely.

"Spyro, why aren't you in Warfang?" she asked, stepping forward in confusion and gazing at him with intent, studying eyes.

"I had to come," he replied simply, glancing between her and Cyril, who was still scowling at him.

"We intercepted him approaching from the south in the adjacent pass," a guard that was standing just beside the purple dragon replied. "But we weren't sure if this really is him, or the imposter you spoke of. We brought him here so you might verify his identity."

Spyro cast a brief glare up at the guard out of the corner of his eyes, but the guard didn't notice, or at least didn't make indication that he had. Then the purple dragon turned his eyes forward again, looking between Cyril and Cynder expectantly.

Nothing was said for a long moment as both Cynder and the ice guardian gazed intently at the purple dragon, trying to see anything recognizable that would tell them for certain that it was really him. Cynder took a step closer to him, peering deep into his eyes. He held her gaze unwaveringly, his expression mostly blank save for a hint of a scowl, as if in irritation at being doubted.

Only a brief moment later, though, any doubts Cynder might have been holding were erased. She had seen more than enough in his eyes to know for sure it was him; they were the same as she had always known since first seeing him after he freed her from Malefor's corruption, except for the fact that the light within them had been dulled by the trials he had recently experienced. Still, there was no mistaking that it was him. Cyril seemed to come to the same conclusion only a second later.

"There's no need for suspicion," the ice guardian declared impatiently, looking up at the guards. "You may leave us. Thank you for bringing him."

The guards nodded their heads and departed without delay, descending the sloped side of the mountain they were on and heading deeper into the camp. When they had gone Cynder immediately moved toward Spyro, longing for answers as to his unexpected appearance and desperate to know just what exactly he was thinking, but Cyril quickly cut her off.

"Just a moment, Cynder," he said sternly, holding out a wing to stop her before returning his glare to Spyro. "I would like a word with you in private, young dragon. Follow me, please."

He turned about and began padding slowly back toward the opening of the small cave the group had just departed. Spyro hesitated with a reluctant expression before sighing and trailing after the guardian. Cynder quickly felt concern worming its way through her, and she tried to follow only to find her path blocked by a large wing. She looked up to see that it was Raulk that had stopped her.

"Sorry," he told her with a shrug. "He said private."

"Oh, come on," Sparx protested. "Can't you just let us listen in? We're going to find out what they're saying eventually from Spyro anyway."

"Sorry," the earth dragon said simply again. Then he moved a short distance away down the slope of the mountain and settled into a seated position. Cynder sighed with disappointment, looking one final time toward the entrance of the cave before reluctantly turning away and finding a place to sit nearby. Flash and Sirius joined her, as well as Sparx.

"So, what can you tell us?" she asked the dragonfly.

The next several minutes passed slowly for Cynder, who was growing more and more desperate as time wore on to see Spyro and get some kind of explanation from him. Sparx told her what he could, about how Spyro had appeared at his parents' room and had explained that he was leaving the city, and how they had subsequently snuck out without any of the guards or the guardians knowing. Cynder didn't like to think about the state of alarm that must have seized them when they first realized Spyro was missing, but there was no helping it now.

Things only became tenser when the sound of Cyril's furious scolding reached them from within the cave, and Cynder hated to imagine the telling off that Spyro was enduring. Though a part of her _was_ mad at him for leaving the city—only because, like the guardians, she didn't want to risk him getting hurt—she didn't think that he could really be blamed for coming after them. After all, she knew she would have done the same thing, and she had no doubt that anyone else present would have as well.

Minutes ticked by, and slowly the other dragons present began to disperse. Pyruth was the first to go, presumably to prepare his guards for the upcoming battle. Raulk was next, though he paused for a few quick words with Cynder first. Then Sirius departed, searching for Faren. Eventually, even Cynder, Flash and Sparx decided that they should leave Spyro and Cyril to their discussion in peace, for it didn't sound as if it was going to end any time soon. So, reluctantly, the small group left the cave behind them, wandering slowly through the camp, which consisted of a network of small natural hollows and caves within the cliff face that the dragons could seek shelter inside.

By midnight, Flash and Sparx had gone to find somewhere to try and get some sleep, Flash feeling incredibly anxious about the next day and Sparx simply exhausted from the long journey to overtake the division. Cynder, meanwhile, slowly padded up the mountain face toward a cave where, according to a guard she had spoken to, Cyril had taken Spyro once their discussion had concluded. There was no glow of a fire within it, and Cynder became afraid that Spyro wasn't there, but when she reached the cave opening and poked her head inside she found the purple dragon resting near the back wall.

"Spyro?" she called uncertainly.

Spyro quickly raised his head at the sound of his name and turned an inquisitive gaze toward the cave mouth. He said nothing, though, only lying there staring back as Cynder as she shifted tentatively just outside his shelter. Finally, Cynder couldn't take the silence any longer and began cautiously making her way forward into the cave.

"Spyro, why did you come?" she asked quietly, watching his expression closely. "Why didn't you just stay in Warfang?"

Spyro's expression hardened slightly.

"You too?" he said. "You would rather that I stayed behind? I thought you said you wished I was coming."

"Not like this," Cynder protested, shaking her head. "Not when you're hurt."

"So you doubt me too?" he said gruffly, obviously still bitter from Cyril's earlier scolding. "You don't think that I can handle being out here? This leg doesn't make me weak, Cynder. I can handle myself just fine."

"I know that," Cynder said quickly, struggling to find the right words for the worry she was feeling. "I know, Spyro, and I don't doubt you. I—"

"Then why don't you want me here?" he demanded challengingly.

"Because I don't want to lose you again!"

Spyro looked startled by the sudden intensity in Cynder's voice, and Cynder herself was also a bit surprised, not having intending it. For a moment both dragons could only stare mutely at each other, both of them suddenly feeling uncertain.

"I don't want to lose you, Spyro," Cynder sighed at length, her gaze falling. "Not now. I still care about you, even if you are still mad at me, and I wouldn't be able to stand to see you get hurt because of an injury that I gave you."

And though she didn't say it, a part of her had been hoping that she would be able to complete this task alone, in hopes of redeeming herself in the purple dragon's eyes. But now that he was here, the best that she could do was be his support, as she had been when facing Malefor. This thought left her feeling almost like she had failed him before the battle had even begun.

Just then, to her mild surprise, she heard Spyro utter a long, heavy sigh, and she looked up to see that his eyes had closed and his head had dropped toward the ground, bringing a forepaw up to his brow with a look of great tension on his face.

"I'm not mad at you," he admitted finally with obvious difficulty.

Cynder was stunned, and for several seconds she was certain that she must have heard him wrong, but when he looked back up at her and she saw the look in his eyes, she realized that there was no mistake.

"What?" she managed to force out finally.

"I'm not mad at you anymore," he sighed tensely. "I haven't forgiven you yet, and I don't know how long it will be before I can, but the only one that I can blame for this is Nexus, not you. There's no point wasting my anger when I should be focussing on him."

Cynder was once again caught by surprise by this revelation, and for quite some time she could only gaze uncertainly back at the purple dragon, but there was a look of sincerity in his eyes, and while his gaze was still hard it held none of the animosity that it had before.

As his words finally sunk in, Cynder couldn't help but give a small smile. Though it hurt her to know that Spyro still couldn't bring himself to forgive her for what she'd done to him, being able to put his anger toward her behind him was certainly a positive step, and it filled her with hope. Maybe earning his trust again wouldn't be quite as difficult as she had originally feared.

"So...do you know what you're doing tomorrow?" she asked after a long pause. "I take it Cyril agreed to let you stay?"

Spyro nodded once. "I guess he knew that I would just come back if he tried to have me escorted back to the city, so he said he might as well take advantage of me being here. He's assigned me to your command for tomorrow."

"To me?" Cynder repeated, surprised. Then a feeling of doubt and anxiety seeped through her. "And you're okay with that?"

Spyro easily caught the edge of uncertainty in her voice, and he shot her a studying look before his gaze drifted off into the distance, a hard look coming over his expression.

"I won't lie," he sighed finally. "I would rather be going after Nexus. But we have an important task to complete here, rescuing those dragons, so you don't have to worry about any trouble from me."

Cynder relaxed, though she was still slightly nervous that, if they happened to cross paths with the other purple dragon, Spyro would forget all about whatever mission they were completing at the time and would chase after him with all he was worth. Still, she would probably do the same. She did feel uncomfortable being in 'command' of him during the battle, and would much rather be fighting with him as an equal as they had done before, but she resigned herself to follow Cyril's wishes for now.

"Okay," she told him, turning uncertainly as if to leave. "I...I guess I'll leave you alone to get some rest."

Spyro looked at her curiously, and it seemed as if he had noticed the reluctance in her tone. He gazed at her with a somewhat conflicted expression for a moment before letting out a small sigh.

"Unless you want to stay here," he told her.

Cynder let out a small gasp of surprise and spun around to face him again, caught completely unprepared for such an offer.

"What?"

Spyro gave a shrug and looked away evasively, appearing almost embarrassed, and even slightly annoyed with himself.

"It's cold out there," he grunted, nodding toward the outside of the cave.

Cynder glanced back toward the bare slope of the mountain, and she gave a small shiver as a gust of wind of the chilled mountain air brushed past her. Then she looked back toward Spyro, unsure of how to respond. She wanted more than anything to accept, purely delighted inside that he had even suggested it at all, but at the same time she didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"It's up to you," Spyro said at length, and without another word he curled up more tightly on the stone floor of the sheltered rock hollow and set his head down, closing his eyes to rest.

Cynder gazed at his still form for almost a full minute, conflicted, before finally giving in. She padded as silently as possible into the cave, stopping when she was a little more than a foot away from the purple dragon; close enough that at least some of the warmth from their bodies would reach each other, but not so close as to make him uncomfortable. Then she lay down upon the cool stone floor of the cave and curled up tightly, wrapping her wings around herself to try and shelter herself as much as possible from the cold night air. After one final glance toward Spyro, she closed her eyes.

Just before sleep claimed her, the beginnings of a smile formed on her muzzle.

* * *

><p><strong>Mostly filler, I know. But I promise that the next chapter will be a nice big action scene, so you just gotta hold on a little bit longer. I'll try not to disappoint :)<strong>

**Until next time...**


	31. Chapter 30

**Wow. Just wow. 35 pages, and 19,000 freaking words. I knew that I had a lot to fit into this chapter, but still...**

**I did enjoy writing this chapter though, and I'm glad that it didn't take me over two weeks to do it. X) Hope you enjoy it. As I said before, we're working toward the climax, so things are coming to a head! Drama! Oh boy!  
><strong>

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 30:<span>_

The sound of movement outside of the small, confined cave was what eventually roused Spyro from his slumber, but when he did slowly awake the first thing he was aware of was a sensation of warmth that seemed strangely at odds with the frosty mountain air that he had felt during the night. It was a remarkably soothing feeling, however, and for a short while he found that he was content simply to lie there and savour it.

Shortly afterward, however, Spyro suddenly realized that aside from the warmth he could also feel a soft pressure against his flank. Now puzzled, he finally opened his eyes to investigate. When he did, he was met by the sight of glistening black scales. For a moment he just stared blankly as his groggy mind processed what he was seeing, but then realization crashed over him and his eyes bugged out in shock.

Somehow, during the night Cynder had wound up nestled against his side, her slender body curled into a rough ball, her tail wrapping almost all the way around to her snout and her wings covering most of her body, a look of peace on her face as she lay with her back pressed against him. His face immediately began to burn. How had this happened? How far had he been from the back wall of the cave before going to sleep? Had Cynder been quite that deep into the enclosed rocky space when she had lain down? He wasn't sure, and now he found that he was too stunned to move.

Another noise reached into the cave from the camp outside; the faint crash of armour getting knocked over somewhere farther down the mountain slope, and in response Cynder stirred with a muffled groan. Then, slowly, her eyes cracked open, staring blearily ahead momentarily as she blinked several times to make her vision focus. It was another few seconds before she finally seemed to notice Spyro out of the corner of her field of view. She turned her head and swivelled her eyes up to his, and when she saw him staring back at her with that stunned look plastered on his face her own eyes suddenly went wide with shock, realizing their position.

Immediately the two dragons leapt to their feet, springing apart from each other as quickly as if they had been burned. For several long moments they could only stare at each other uncertainly, Spyro feeling oddly conflicted about what had happened and Cynder looking quite embarrassed. In the end, they were saved from the uncomfortable silence by a call from outside.

"Hey, Spyro," came a familiar voice. "You in there?"

Spyro glanced past Cynder toward the mouth of the cave before returning his gaze to the dragoness. After a brief pause, she cleared her throat quietly.

"I guess we should get moving," she suggested.

"Right," Spyro nodded immediately, anxious to escape the awkward situation. "You go ahead."

Cynder nodded her head in reply and turned around toward the cave opening. Then, after casting a final backward glance at Spyro, she began padding out into the open air. Spyro followed a few feet behind her. When he exited the cave he found that it was still early in the morning, the sun having just risen above the peaks of the mountains to the east and barely any light reaching into the valley. The sky was thickly overcast, which was at the same time depressing and fortunate—the added darkness would help to cover their approach toward the village, at least for a little while.

After he finished glancing around at their surroundings, Spyro's eyes fell upon the source of the earlier call. Sparx was hovering a short distance down the slope from them, and Spyro noticed that he was eyeing him and Cynder with a surprised, suspicious expression. Eventually his eyes settled squarely on Spyro.

"What?" Spyro asked with a note of mild irritation in his voice.

"Oh, nothing," Sparx grunted evasively. "I just didn't know you were the kind of guy who shares a room with someone he's angry with."

Cynder gave a quiet groan and rolled her eyes. Spyro, meanwhile, felt his face burn slightly from embarrassment but hid it behind a mask of annoyance.

"It's nothing."

"Uh huh," Sparx said doubtfully, glancing briefly at Cynder again. "Aaaanyway, I just came to let you know that Cyril wants to talk to you. Both of you, actually."

"What about?" Cynder asked.

Sparx shrugged his small shoulders. "How should I know? That's just what I heard. So, you coming or what? We're not going to find out what's going on just sitting around here."

Spyro and Cynder exchanged curious looks before resigning themselves to wait to find out what the summons was about until they spoke with Cyril. Cynder took the lead and began the short walk through the camp to the cave where they had met the night before. Spyro followed right behind her, Sparx beside him, wondering all the while what the guardian might want to speak to them about.

Only a couple of minutes later their destination came into view ahead, and Spyro was mildly surprised to see Faren and Flash there, sitting just outside the cave and speaking quietly to each other. The pair of dragons looked up when they noticed the group of newcomers approaching.

"What's going on?" Cynder asked them as they drew nearer.

Faren shrugged in reply. "We don't know. We were just told that Cyril wanted to see us."

"You too?" Sparx said in surprise.

This time it was Flash who nodded, shooting the dragonfly a scrutinizing look. "Yeah. Why wouldn't he call us too? We're all in the same group."

"Testy," Sparx muttered under his breath, giving the white dragon a quick glare before turning away, facing Spyro again. The purple dragon merely ignored his brother.

"I wonder what it is he wants to talk to us about," Cynder said, casting a quizzical frown up toward the mouth of the cave.

Spyro followed her gaze, and after a moment he thought he could make out faint voices coming from within the dark rocky interior. Cynder seemed to detect this as well.

"Who else is here?" she asked, looking once more toward Faren.

"Sirius," the red fire dragoness replied. "And Raulk and Pyruth too. I didn't see anyone else come."

Cynder nodded thoughtfully, looking up toward the cave again.

"Well, we might as well get in there," she said at length. "Come on."

Without waiting for a reply she began striding forward, and after a moment Spyro moved to follow her. Faren trailed closely behind her black-scaled companion as well, while Flash fell into step beside Spyro. As he walked, the young light dragon looked up at him.

"How are you?" he asked.

Spyro was slightly surprised by the sudden question. He glanced over to see the younger dragon's eyes drift briefly to the scar on his leg, and he realized what it was his companion had meant. He gave a weak sigh.

"Good enough," he replied simply.

Flash gave a small nod and said nothing more. Spyro could easily tell that the smaller dragon wasn't quite convinced, but he didn't press any further into it—they were entering the cave, and he turned his attention to the matter at hand.

Inside the cave Spyro found Cyril, Sirius, and the two large, hardened guards gathered together in the shadowy back of the small underground space. They all looked up when the four younger dragons and glowing dragonfly entered, whatever conversation they had been having quickly dying out.

"Ah, there you all are," Cyril said as the group drew to a halt. "Good. We had just been beginning to fear that you had decided not to be present. We can begin then."

"Begin with what?" Cynder asked, fixing the guardian with a questioning stare.

"We have a few final amendments to make to our strategy," Cyril replied. "Our first wave of advance scouts has returned. Captain, perhaps you could summarize their findings for us."

The fire dragon guard, Pyruth, gave a single firm nod of his head before straightening up to give his report. However, Spyro noticed that the red dragon paused just long enough to shoot him a suspicious glance. It was the same look of suspicion that had been on the faces of the guards that had intercepted him on his way to the camp. He felt irritation bristle within him, but he tried to push it aside.

"It's mostly as we expected, it seems," the guard declared, turning his attention back to the rest of the gathering. "The scouts have spotted a number of grublins positioned across the valley, between a few hundred to a thousand that they could see. There were no signs of the dragon prisoners anywhere, so it seems logical that they're being held captive within their own village underground if they haven't been moved elsewhere."

There were small nods of agreement from Cyril, Raulk, and Cynder.

"That's where I would have put them," she muttered, her gaze distant as though she were deep in thought.

"And what about Nexus?" Raulk asked after glancing briefly toward the black dragoness upon hearing her speak.

"No sign of him as of yet."

"He might be underground watching over the prisoners," Sirius suggested.

"It's possible," Cyril said, nodding. "Regardless, we'll all need to keep our wits about us out there. Especially you, Spyro."

Spyro met the guardian's stern gaze with a steady one of his own, and for several seconds all else fell silent in the cave as the two dragons stared each other down. The tension in the air was practically palpable. It was difficult to tell whether the reason for Cyril's wariness was because of concern for the purple dragon, or worry that he might do something rash. Either way Spyro was determined to see this mission through, no matter what stood against him.

Especially Nexus.

"So our objective is unchanged?" Cynder asked a moment later.

Cyril nodded. "For the most part. The main division of our forces will need to adjust our attack plan to take into account the arrangement of the grublins' forces, but you and your team will infiltrate into the cavern as previously planned and liberate as many of the prisoners as you can. Our best chance of success in this mission will be with their help."

Cynder nodded firmly.

"However, given this news, perhaps you would like a few more dragons transferred to your command to assist you?"

Cynder gave the guardian a puzzled look. "Why? We have Spyro now."

"Exactly. Now you will undoubtedly be more of a target for Nexus."

Cynder hesitated at this, realizing that Cyril had a point. She glanced toward Spyro, but he merely waited silently for her reaction. It was only a short moment later before she shook her head, though.

"No, it will be easier to move about unnoticed if the group is kept as small as possible."

Cyril studied her for a few seconds before giving a small nod.

"Very well. If that is your choice, then we'll trust you with that. As for the rest of us, our overall task remains the same as before. We must draw off the bulk of the grublins' forces to give the villagers the best chance of breaking out of the cavern. Understood?"

Raulk and Pyruth both nodded their heads in acknowledgement, as did Sirius.

"Very good," Cyril declared. "Then let's begin spreading the word to make ready to depart. We still have a fair ways to go to reach the village, and we have a deadline to keep to."

"Yes Master Cyril," both of the large guard dragons replied sharply, and together they turned and pushed past the younger dragons on their way out of the cave. Sensing that they were dismissed as well, Spyro, Cynder and their companions likewise departed. Once they were outside, though, Cynder stopped suddenly and turned to face the others.

"You go on ahead," she told them before glancing toward Spyro. "There's something I need to sort out quickly."

Faren and Flash exchanged puzzled looks with each other before turning their gazes on Cynder again. She offered no explanation as they were hoping, however. Instead her expression grew sterner, and she motioned more insistently with her wing for them to leave. At length they relented, and after giving low sighs of surrender they turned away and plodded off down the mountain slope.

Meanwhile Sparx was giving his brother a pleading look, clearly wanting to stay behind and hear what Cynder had to say, but Spyro merely motioned with his chin for the dragonfly to follow the other two dragons. Sparx looked stunned, but finally he also gave in and hovered off, grumbling to himself all the while. When they were finally alone, Cynder turned to face her purple companion.

"What is it?" he asked her quizzically.

Cynder hesitated, as though she wasn't completely sure of what she wanted to say, but at length she told him, "I just wanted to talk to you about today."

Her voice contained an unsure quality to it, which Spyro thought was strange, and he raised a brow questioningly.

"Okay..."

Cynder paused for a moment as she tried to organize her thoughts before finally saying, "Listen, I know that for this mission I'm supposed to be your superior, but I don't feel like it's right for things to be that way. I wouldn't feel comfortable with it, and I don't think it's the best way to handle things."

Spyro gazed at her with a studying eye, wondering what she was getting at.

"So what are you suggesting instead?"

"I just want things to stay the way they were before," she said immediately. "We were a team, and I don't want that to change. I know that things aren't great between us right now, but do you think we can do that? Do you think you can stand having me fight by your side, and you fight by my side like before?"

Spyro didn't miss the hopeful, almost longing note in her voice and in her eyes as she gazed straight at him. It caught him slightly unprepared, but quickly his surprise turned to consideration. Though he still felt a bit agitated and on edge whenever he was close to the black dragoness, he couldn't deny that the idea of fighting side by side as they had used to held a strong appeal, and he couldn't imagine going into a battle any other way. In the end, he realized that he didn't want things to be any different either, and so he gave a small nod.

"Of course," he told her.

Her eyes immediately brightened, and a relieved smile quickly stretched across her muzzle.

"Alright then," she said. Then she turned to glance back at the camp. "It looks like everyone's getting ready to go. We should probably go and join back up with the others."

Spyro nodded in agreement, and so together the pair began making their way down the slope of the mountain, searching for Flash, Faren and Sparx. It was only a few minutes before they found them in the midst of a growing crowd of dragon guards, all awaiting the order to move out. After that, all that was left to do was wait.

Half an hour later, work to erase all evidence of the small army's passing through the area was completed, and the division waited expectantly as Cyril and Sirius made their way to the front of the gathering with Raulk and Pyruth following them on either side. Then, after the ice dragon paused to survey the gathering, the order was given and the division of dragons leapt into the sky, turning north and flying low through the valley, the mountains and heavy clouds offering cover as they winged their way to battle.

With every flap of his wings that he took, Spyro felt a sense of anticipation growing within him. His chance to put an end to his torments was drawing nearer.

Still, for a reason he couldn't explain, he couldn't shake a nagging sense that this battle wasn't going to go as easily as he would hope...

***.*.***

An eerie silence hung like a heavy blanket over the wooded valley that surrounded the hidden village in the mountains. If one looked closely it wasn't hard to spot the rugged, hastily-constructed camps that housed collections of anywhere from a dozen to a hundred grublin troops each, but even so there was remarkably little actual visible activity in the area. It was as though some greater power had reached down and sucked all life from the landscape, leaving all within it frozen in silence.

The only apparently living creature within sight was a lone purple dragon sitting on a rock outcropping above the main entrance to the cavern that housed the mountain village, which was also unnaturally silent. Nexus had been there for close to four hours by that point, alternating between sitting and pacing as he stared impatiently toward the south, as if waiting for something. The look upon his face was one of uncharacteristic tension.

_Where are they?_ he wondered impatiently, rising and beginning to pace restlessly once again.

He wasn't truly sure why he was so anxious. Though the clouds blocked out nearly all the light from the sun, plunging the valley into a premature twilight, in reality it was barely past noon and so there was plenty of time left until the deadline he had imposed expired. Still, Nexus realized that he had been expecting the guardians to rush to the village's aid with more haste than they had. He had almost expected them to arrive sometime the day before, but as it was he hadn't seen head or tail of any of the guardians, or Spyro. Despite himself, he was beginning to wonder if they would come at all.

_Why can't they just hurry up so I can get this over with?_ he wondered bitterly.

Ever since his failure at Warfang, Nexus had felt himself growing more and more ill at ease. He knew that he had a tremendous amount riding on this new plan. His master was watching him, just waiting for him to make another mistake before dealing out his final punishment. The thought filled him with a cold tingle of dread, and it left him feeling more stressed than he could ever remember. This wasn't fun anymore. He just wanted it to be over as quickly as possible—preferably with him still living.

A sudden scuffle against the stone came from his left, and with a start Nexus whirled about only to find that the noise had been from a grublin cautiously approaching him. His expression immediately twisted into a scowl, and he gave an irritated snarl.

"What is it?"

The grublin shifted uneasily at the edge in its superior's voice, but at length it managed to stutter a brief explanation for its intrusion. When it was finished, Nexus felt a brow rising questioningly.

"He's determined?"

The grublin nodded anxiously. Nexus sighed.

"Fine, bring him up."

The grublin hastily turned about and scampered off, leaving Nexus in silent contemplation. Only a minute later the sounds of footsteps reached him again, but this time they were significantly heavier and more numerous. Nexus looked up to see two of his lumbering grublin officers stalking toward him, pulling an earth dragon between them by the wings. The dragon gave a weak snarl as he was suddenly yanked forward, sending it tumbling weakly to the stone ground. As Nexus's eyes wandered over the other dragon's form he noticed several large bruises and gashes.

"Well?" he said impatiently. "What is it you were so desperate to speak to me about? Are you here to bargain for the release of your village or something? Or is this some kind of pride thing, and you just had to see the face of the dragon that beat you? Because here I am."

The chief village elder raised his head and glared up at Nexus with the fire of hatred in his eyes, his lip curling into a snarl of disgust.

"What is it with you and your kind?" he practically spat. "What is it about our village that makes you so determined to eliminate us? First there was that 'Spyro', and now you. Is there even any purpose to this, or are we just some kind of entertainment for you?"

Nexus snorted with bitter amusement. "See, that's where you're wrong. It has nothing to do with your village, and everything to do with the leverage it gives me. You're all just tools to me."

The elder gaped at him in disbelief at those words, but quickly his expression turned to one of outrage.

"And what's more, there was never any other purple dragon attacking you. It was always me."

The earth dragon elder faltered, gazing up at Nexus with a scrutinizing eye as if suspecting some kind of trickery.

"What do you mean?" he said slowly. "You're not the same dragon that attacked us that night."

Nexus sighed and rolled his eyes before focussing deeply and shifting the appearance of his body as he had done so many times over recent weeks. The change was almost second nature to him now, and soon he looked identical to Spyro.

"Recognize me now?" he asked in Spyro's voice.

The elder was frozen in shock for several seconds at what he had just witnessed. Finally, though, he managed to gasp, "It...it was you all along? But then, what about—"

"The dragon you captured?" Nexus cut in, at the same time reverting to his natural appearance. "Innocent."

A look almost like horror entered the larger dragon's expression, and in a weak voice he muttered, "So he _was_ telling us the truth all along..."

Nexus said nothing, simply watching the other dragon's reaction as he was forced to confront the truth of what had occurred in his village. For just a brief moment he felt a swell of satisfaction at seeing the elder's conscience in turmoil over imprisoning an innocent dragon—not because he liked seeing his troubles, as he might have in different circumstances, but because he felt like the other dragon deserved to suffer from his own conscience for what he had done to Spyro. Inside he knew that this was hypocritical to the extreme, but nonetheless it was the truth.

Spyro was, after all, a brother to him.

Of course, the elder immediately tried to deflect the blame.

"You monster," he growled darkly, fixing Nexus with a loathsome glare.

"Me?" Nexus blurted, becoming defensive. "I wasn't the one who refused to believe the truth when I heard it. Holding Spyro in prison for weeks and whatever pain you caused him in that time is all on you."

The elder dragon snorted with contempt. "Trying to escape your own conscience with denial?"

"I don't have one," Nexus retorted.

"You know the guardians will never stand for this," the elder snarled, growing angrier. "You aren't going to get away with what you've done here."

Nexus gave a derisive snort. "Like that matters. They can't do anything to me. But don't you worry; as soon as I get what I want, I'll be gone, and you won't have to worry about seeing me again. Ever."

It seemed as though something in Nexus's tone at those words caused the elder to pause, and he looked like he was just about to inquire about it but he was interrupted when a flying grublin came streaking toward the small group from the south, chattering insistently in a panic. Nexus listened to its frantic report quickly.

"You're sure?" he asked when it had finished.

The grublin nodded rapidly, uttering a few more shrill noises. Nexus immediately felt an anxious anticipation growing within him. He turned back to the elder.

"Here comes your rescue," he sneered before turning his gaze on the two much larger grublins. "Prepare the army. We don't have much time before they get here."

The grublins gave gruff rumbles in acknowledgement before grabbing hold of the elder dragon and dragging him, struggling, back toward the cavern. As they departed, Nexus turned to the south and gazed out at the horizon in the distance, which was veiled in the shadow of the clouds just as was the rest of the region. Finally the moment of truth was drawing near, and along with it his greatest test yet.

Whatever happened, it would all end that day.

***.*.***

"Alright, this is our position. Everyone stop here."

As soon as the words were past her mouth, Cynder quickly searched about for something to offer cover and soon spotted a small cluster of bushes to her left. Without a sound she darted over to them and crouched down low, and at the same time she could hear the other dragons in her group doing the same. Scarcely a few seconds later, silence descended over the small wooded glade at the edge of which they had halted.

With a quick sweep of her head Cynder took in her surroundings, something she had unconsciously been doing at least once every minute or so since entering the valley. She saw no signs of danger anywhere, but she didn't allow herself to relax. Nexus's army now controlled this area, and if she wasn't always at full alertness she could lead her small group right into an ambush, or allow them to become surrounded, and that simply wouldn't do.

She was pleased to see that the six other dragons in her group all looked fairly calm and focussed as well. Spyro didn't have even a trace of fear or anxiety on his expression. His features were set in a determined, focussed look, his senses all tuned intently to his surroundings. He had been silent during almost the whole flight to the valley surrounding their target, keeping mostly to himself, and this had caused a twinge of sadness within Cynder's heart. For now, though, she hadn't a single doubt that she could count on him to give his all in this fight.

Faren and Flash also appeared collected enough, though there was a clear look of nervousness on their faces, Faren especially. The red dragoness kept jumping at any unexpected noise from the trees around them, and for a moment Cynder worried that she wouldn't be able to keep calm enough to complete their mission, but then she remembered what she had heard from Hunter, and she felt confident enough that once the fighting started Faren would be able to hold her own. She couldn't say she knew what to expect from Flash, but Spyro had assured her that the young white dragon could handle himself.

_He did manage to get the drop on me in Warfang_, she conceded in her mind. _Not too many dragons can say that._

Then there were the three guard dragons that had accompanied the four younger ones to add a bit more strength to their group. They were all males in their primes, two from Warfang and one of Pyruth's most trusted subordinates from the eastern city. They were all wearing armour in dull shades of bronze and silver that wouldn't be too easy to spot from a distance, and all had a bearing of great professionalism about them. They seemed to have no qualms with taking orders from a dragoness so much younger than themselves, not when that dragoness was infamous throughout the Dragon Realms for her abilities in combat and in command, and for this Cynder was glad. They would do their jobs, and do them well.

As she looked over the guards' armour, Cynder wondered for just a brief moment if it wouldn't have been a good idea to acquire armour for herself and her other young companions before leaving Warfang. They were likely to face some significant opposition during the upcoming battle, and amongst them were two dragons who didn't have nearly as much experience as the rest of them. She remembered the pieces of armour she and Spyro had occasionally stumbled across and made use of during their earlier adventure.

_Should we have gotten something similar for them?_ she wondered.

Almost immediately she discarded the thought, however. If Flash or Faren had wanted armour, they certainly would have asked for it. And she herself had no interest in it. She had never much liked battling with armour on, both during her service to Malefor and afterwards. She found that it slowed her down too much for her liking when she preferred to be able to move freely in a battle without hindrance. Still, she did understand the value of it. Perhaps if she had some lighter pieces of scout's armour made for her...

Then again, perhaps not.

"So, why are we waiting here?" a voice inquired suddenly.

The unexpected noise caused Cynder to jolt, standing out alarmingly against the silence of their surroundings. She whipped her gaze around at the same time as she heard another voice hiss, "Shh!" Her gaze quickly settled on Spyro, glaring up at Sparx who was hovering just beside the purple dragon with his hands covering his mouth and a guilty look on his face.

"Keep it down!" she hissed under her breath.

"Sorry," the dragonfly whispered back, removing his hands from his mouth. "But again, why are we waiting here? Shouldn't we get closer or something?"

"Not until Cyril and the rest of the division make their move," Cynder replied. "How about a little faith here? I _do_ know what I'm doing, you know."

Sparx scowled, and Cynder scowled back before giving an exasperated sigh and shaking her head. Then she turned her gaze northward once more, waiting. For a minute there was silence, but then Faren spoke up in a hushed voice.

"It's so quiet," she whispered anxiously. "Where are all the grublins?"

"This doesn't feel right," one of the guards, an ice dragon from Warfang, grunted quietly. "I thought Nexus was supposed to be expecting us."

"He is," Cynder murmured back. "Everyone, keep your wits about you. He has to be up to something."

Tense silence descended over the group of seven dragons and one dragonfly. Cynder scanned the wooded valley around them again, her keen eyes straining to make out any signs of grublin activity through the seemingly unnatural darkness that enshrouded the valley. Behind her she noticed the other dragons doing the same. Sparx had edged closer to his brother as well, his eyes darting nervously every which way.

"This feels wrong," Spyro muttered darkly a moment later, causing Cynder to glance back at him anxiously. "This is just like when I first came to this village. I didn't see any sign of the grublins then either, but they were there, watching..." He trailed off, his gaze sweeping across the land. "He's playing with us."

"Oh, joy," Sparx whimpered. "And here I was thinking that I couldn't get any more scared..."

"Focus," Cynder growled.

They remained motionless for another couple of minutes, and every second that ticked by without a single sound or sign of motion caused Cynder to feel more and more on edge. Though she couldn't quite place her talon on the reason, something about the entire situation just didn't sit well with her. They should have been able to at least hear _some_ kind of grublin activity ahead of them, but there was nothing.

"Come on," she whispered a moment later, glancing back at the rest of her group. "We've been in one place for too long. Let's keep moving forward."

She didn't wait for a reply before slinking out from behind the bushes, creeping silently along from one piece of cover to the next, all the while keeping her senses tuned for any signs of danger. Spyro quickly moved up by her side, just as alert as she was, and with them in the lead their small group slowly advanced toward the village that still lay some distance to the north.

Only a minute after they started moving, however, Cynder stopped suddenly when a noise to the north-west reached her. The rest of the group halted as well, their heads all turned upward as they strained to make out what the noise was. A second later it came again; a distant roar. First one, then two, then dozens. Before Cynder knew it, the thunderous call included more voices than she could count, and despite herself she felt a chill run through her as it echoed across the mountains.

Then her eyes caught movement in the distance, and she looked to the peaks of the mountains on the western edge of the valley in the distance ahead of them to see the main bulk of the attack division soaring over the peaks. She was barely able to make out two shapes that she thought were Cyril and Sirius in the lead. The dragons descended into the valley, roaring all the way and creating as much noise as they possible could.

Almost immediately the grublins responded. A chorus of haunting, shrill cries rose from the trees in response to the dragons' charge, and in an instant the valley ahead of the attacking formation began writhing with dark shapes as grublins abandoned their cover and converged on the dragons, some pouring out from the cavern to the village, others emerging from under the cover of the trees in the valley. In no time at all the thunderous crashing and pounding of battle swept over the entire area, the sky illuminated by the flashes of elemental attacks.

"That's our cue," Cynder declared as a feeling of cold focus filled her. "Let's move. Quickly!"

The other dragons nodded without a word, and together they began racing through the woods with fresh haste, anxious to reach the village while the division had the grublins occupied. As silently as possible they wove through the trees, drawing ever nearer to their objective.

"Sentries ahead," Spyro declared suddenly, and Cynder glanced over at him to see that he had a glazed-over, distant look to his eyes as though he was focussing on a sense that was not his sight to see. "Three or four."

"How far out?" Cynder asked him.

"Close."

She nodded before looking back at the other dragons. "You all hang back and keep your eyes out for more. Spyro, Flash, let's go."

Faren gave her three companions a nervous look before she, Sparx and the other three guards slowed their pace and allowed Spyro, Cynder and Flash to pull ahead of them. Spyro used his earth element to guide the smaller group closer to the grublins. Then, as they approached their targets they slowed their pace and, like predators closing in on unsuspecting prey, they stalked forward. Soon enough Cynder was able to see three grublins ahead through the trees, standing in a small clearing atop a low rise in the terrain and scanning their surroundings intently. Without making a sound, Cynder looked toward her two male companions and nodded. They nodded back.

Soundlessly, Flash began to fade from sight before disappearing entirely, and at the same time Spyro crept on his belly to a bush at the edge of the clearing, crouching low and ready to pounce. Satisfied that they would be ready to attack, Cynder tapped into her own powers and sank into the shadows. Then, once she no longer had to worry about a solid body to create noise with, she darted between the trees until she had reached the eastern edge of the clearing. Once there she began slipping silently as a phantom along the ground toward the nearest grublin. Her approach went unnoticed, and within seconds she was almost upon the squat creature.

The grublin had no chance to react before Cynder burst up out of the shadows and landed on its back, instantly driving her tail blade deep between its shoulders before riding its limp form to the ground. The other two grublins hardly even had a chance to acknowledge that one of their companions had been felled before Flash suddenly appeared like a ghost behind the second, using his own tail blade to cut out the hapless creature's throat. They then both turned their gazes on the third, which was staring back at them with eyes wide and full of shock. Just then, Cynder felt fear course through her when it opened its mouth wide to sound the alarm.

She jumped in surprise when Spyro suddenly appeared out of nowhere on top of the grublin, driving it down to the ground and slamming its jaw shut with a forepaw. Tiny sparks of electricity began dancing across his scales, and in eerie silence the grublin beneath him began to twitch and convulse as he sent a massive surge of energy through its body. Finally it went limp, and slowly the purple dragon stepped off of the body and glanced at his companions, his face set in a tense grimace.

"Good work," Cynder said after a moment, wiping her tail blade on the grass. She glanced back as Faren and the rest of the group emerged into the clearing behind them, looking at the three bodies warily. "Alright, let's keep moving. We don't have too much farther to go."

The group set off once again, treading lightly but quickly and trying to make it to the village with as few delays as possible. Still, despite their best efforts they still ran across a number of groups of grublins in the woods, and each time they did their advance was brought to a halt as they dealt with their foes. Cynder could rapidly feel impatience growing within her, but more than that she felt a mounting, deep-seeded unease.

"This is too easy," she growled as she and her companions gazed upon the bodies of two more freshly-dispatched grublins they had encountered. "Why are we only seeing these small groups? They've left this entire area horribly guarded. It's like they're just drawing us in."

"You think it's a trap?" Sparx asked nervously, glancing about as if afraid that something was just about to jump out at him. "Because I'm all for turning back if you think we should."

Cynder didn't bother answering, nor did any of the other dragons in the group. Instead, all eyes turned to the black dragoness, waiting expectantly.

"What should we do?" Flash asked quietly.

Cynder sighed, grappling with herself. Her head told her that they had to go on; the dragons in the village needed them, and they couldn't just turn around and desert them over a bad feeling. At the same time, though, her battle-hardened instincts were urging her to get the heck out of there, and over the years she had learned that those instincts were rarely wrong.

At length, she heaved a frustrated sigh.

"We're almost there," she said, glancing up briefly as a particularly loud rumble from the battle to the northwest reached them. "And we can't just turn around and run away from a fight we knew all along was coming. I for one am seeing this mission through. Let's just get this over with." She paused, then asked, "Any disagreements?"

Predictably, Sparx shot his hand into the air, but aside from that there were no protests. Cynder nodded her head and turned to the north again, but just before she set off she heard a sudden, sharp intake of breath, sounding almost like a pained gasp. Puzzled, she turned around to see that all eyes had turned to Spyro while her back had been turned.

"Spyro?" Flash said concernedly. "What is it?"

Spyro opened his mouth to answer, but before he could a look of pain flashed across his expression. His eyes snapped shut and his jaws clenched tightly, his entire body going rigid. With a sharp groan he brought a paw up to his forehead, wincing and practically digging his claws into his own scales as another jolt of pain apparently shot through him.

"What's wrong?" Faren asked, the pitch of her voice rising anxiously.

"Is it that thing with your head again?" Flash asked insistently, stepping closer to his friend.

"You know about that?" Sparx asked, surprise heavy in his voice.

"Yeah, it happened once while we were looking for my brother."

"What are you both talking about?" Cynder cut in, worry gripping at her chest. "What thing with his head? What's happening?"

Both Sparx and Flash looked like they were about to reply, but a sharp grunt from Spyro cut them off. Cynder quickly shifted closer to him, looking over him quickly in a futile attempt to identify what was causing his pain. But then, just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Spyro gave a long, strained gasp before his body sagged wearily, his breathing coming in heavy gulps.

"Are you okay?" Cynder asked him immediately, concern flooding through her.

"I'm fine," the purple dragon said faintly. "It's over."

"What happened?"

Spyro merely shook his head helplessly. "I don't know."

Cynder wasn't at all comforted by that answer, and she exchanged a worried look with Faren who appeared just as puzzled and unsettled as she was. Then she shifted her gaze to Sparx and Flash, arching a brow questioningly, but they both just shrugged. Clearly, though this wasn't a new occurrence to either of them, they didn't have any explanation to offer.

"At least it wasn't too bad that time," Sparx commented hesitantly in a feeble attempt to lighten some of the tension.

Spyro snorted.

Just at that moment, a sudden, muffled snapping sound reached their ears, instantly drawing the attention of everyone in the small clearing in which they were standing. At the sound Cynder spun around to the north, anxiety springing up within her. She wasn't sure, but that noise had sounded too familiar for her liking.

"What was that?" one of the guards asked quietly.

Before anyone could answer the sound came again. Barely a split-second later, there was another much louder _CRACK_, and Cynder jolted back in shock and horror as a swirling portal of convexity flashed into existence barely two dozen feet ahead of them. Sparx gave a sharp squeal of alarm and darted for cover in the bushes. Faren half hid behind Flash, who was closest to her. Cynder, meanwhile, found herself too stunned to move as, less than a second after it had formed, the portal stabilized, and a dark purple figure burst through it.

Nexus moved so quickly that no one had any chance to react. With a triumphant snarl, the purple dragon leapt forward the instant his paws hit the ground, surging straight for Spyro who stood frozen in place in shock. Spyro uttered a jolting grunt as Nexus slammed into him full force, tackling him backward through the air. An instant later, Cynder felt horror explode through her when a new convexity portal formed directly in the path of the two purple dragons.

"No!" she shouted desperately, lunging forward.

She was too late. She barely had time to travel a few feet before Nexus reached the portal and leapt straight into it without any hesitation, dragging Spyro with him.

"Spyro!" Cynder screamed.

Her cry had barely passed her jaws before the two purple dragons were engulfed in the portal. She could only watch helplessly as Nexus and Spyro disappeared from sight, the portal collapsing in on itself with a deep, resounding crash.

***.*.***

The noise was unbelievable, and the swirling lights were so intense that Spyro immediately lost all sense of direction and bearing. He was only aware of tumbling uncontrollably, the light and sound assaulting his senses and overwhelming him in an instant. Though it only lasted a couple of seconds, to him it felt like an eternity.

He felt a sudden lurch, and with a final loud crack the noise and light suddenly died away. Spyro was unable to catch himself as he tumbled out of the air, crashing into the rough stony ground in a heap. He felt a jarring impact as something landed on top of him, but immediately it leapt off again, leaving him sprawled in a heap on the ground.

"Finally," a familiar voice growled, somehow reaching him through the confused, dizzy haze that hung over his mind. "It's about time I got you alone."

Shakily, Spyro raised his head from the ground and forced his eyes to focus. He found himself lying in the middle of a wide, flat plateau high in an unknown mountain. A second later a faint, distant rumble reached his ears, and he glanced toward it to see, far, far in the distance, the battle that was raging between the dragon division and the grublins. It was so far away that all he saw was a blurry mass of colours. He realized then that he was in the mountains to the north of the hidden village, isolated from his companions.

Suddenly feeling alone and rather vulnerable, Spyro whipped his gaze around to see Nexus standing on the other side of the plateau, his hard, red-tinged purple eyes boring into him intensely. Immediately Spyro scrambled to his feet, trying to shake off his lingering dizziness and settling into a defensive pose, his expression twisting into a snarl.

"What did you do?" he demanded in a low voice.

Nexus didn't appear at all fazed by the edge in Spyro's tone. He met the other purple dragon's dark gaze and smirked.

"I figured we could use a chance to talk away from any...distractions."

"I have nothing to say to you," Spyro snarled.

"Fine by me," Nexus replied with a shrug. "All I really want you to do is listen anyway."

"Listen to what?"

Another forced smirk tugged at the corner of Nexus's mouth for a fleeting moment. "To reason. Don't you think this has gone on long enough?"

Though Spyro wanted nothing more in that moment to tear the dragon standing before him to shreds with his talons, something about those words still caught him by surprise, and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the other dragon.

"That thought had crossed my mind," he said slowly.

"Good, because I'll be frank with you; I'm really getting tired of this. This was supposed to be over by now, but because you had to be difficult, now we're both caught in a big mess."

Spyro's snarl deepened, anger coursing through him, and in a dark tone he growled, "You're really trying to pin the blame on me for this? You're the one that took everything from me! You're the one that caused this!"

Nexus gave a sharp, bitter laugh, and he shook his head.

"No, Spyro, you did. I wouldn't even be here if not for you."

Spyro growled again, and inside his feeling of suspicion grew. He had almost expected a response like that, but what caused him to falter was that there was no mocking edge in the other dragon's voice as he was expecting. Those words sounded too genuine.

"Why are you even here?" he asked threateningly. "Does this have something to do with how I defeated Malefor?"

"A little bit," Nexus replied with a quick nod of his head. "But that's really only a small part of it. The real reason is still you."

Spyro's eyes narrowed into a dark glare again, and he growled deep in his throat.

"Let me make this simple for you," Nexus sighed, his own expression hardening. "You don't belong here, Spyro. You never did. Just like me, you have a larger purpose, one that doesn't include you staying here. Now, I'm under strict instruction to bring you back with me, and I really can't afford not to succeed, so why don't you do yourself a favour and not make this any harder than it needs to be?"

Those words, said in such a calm, even tone, caused a surge of anger to rush through Spyro's veins. He felt his jaw grinding as his eyes narrowed into furious slits, his muscles bunching as he prepared to pounce.

"Not likely!" he snarled.

With a challenging roar, he leapt. His paws pounded against the stone plateau as he charged straight for Nexus, but the other purple dragon reacted quickly. With a sharp snarl he slammed a paw against the ground, sending a ripple through the earth, and Spyro felt himself stumble as the ground beneath his paws lurched. When he looked back up he saw Nexus streaking straight for him. He gave a startled growl and tried to bring his paws up to block the attack, but he was too slow. Nexus slammed into him and knocked him a few feet back along the plateau, and Spyro struggled as he felt the other purple dragon latch onto him with his talons.

He managed to catch Nexus in the lower jaw with a folded wing, knocking his head back, and in this opening he spun around and raked his talons across Nexus's face. Nexus gave a sharp growl before Spyro kicked out with his hind legs and scrambled away, whirling to face his opponent once he had some separation between them. Nexus quickly jumped back to his feet, squaring himself to Spyro again before lifting a paw up to his cheek to feel the scrape that Spyro's talons had left. His expression darkened.

"Fine," he growled. "But this won't help you."

Spyro didn't bother answering. Instead he leapt again, this time pounding his wings to gain altitude to dive in from a higher angle. Nexus scowled as he watched his opponent approaching before spinning to his right and swinging his tail up. Spyro twisted in the air and barely managed to avoid being struck before landing awkwardly on the ground. Nexus moved to grab him again, but Spyro managed to fend him off with a clumsy swipe of his talons. The blow didn't land, but it forced Nexus to retreat a step, giving Spyro the time he needed to gather his balance.

He wasn't a moment too soon, either, because right at that moment Nexus shot his head forward in an attempt to close his jaws around Spyro's neck. Spyro managed to bring his right wing around and deflected the attack before breathing out a screen of flames. Nexus snarled and retreated again before retaliating with a gust of his ice breath. The two elements met in a hissing cloud of steam.

Spyro tried to use the momentary obstruction to catch Nexus by surprise, but as soon as he cleared the cloud of mist he grunted sharply as Nexus's tail slammed into his head, knocking him sideways through the air and sending him crashing to the ground.

Nexus roared and dove at him while he was vulnerable, and Spyro felt a brief jolt of panic before it was smothered by a firm determination, and he focussed hard on the earth beneath him. A wall of stone burst up directly in Nexus's path, blocking him off from reaching Spyro, and Nexus growled in frustration as he managed to plant his forepaws against it and kick back off of it. An earth missile shattered the barrier, but by that point Spyro was already on his feet. He shot a fireball from between his jaws, but Nexus merely batted it aside with one of his wings. Spyro felt hot anger flare up inside him.

This process repeated itself several times over the course of the next few minutes. Either Spyro or Nexus would lunge forward in an attempt to land a blow on their opponent, at which point the other would retaliate and the two would end up furiously trading blows as they tried to strike their foe. Neither of them met with much success, and while they both did manage to land a few hits, it was barely anything more than a few bruises and scrapes.

In terms of strength, the two dragons found themselves evenly matched. Whether with elements or with their teeth and claws, they were simply unable to overpower each other. However, it rapidly became apparent that, when it came to skill, Nexus had a definite edge. He fought like someone with a lifetime of experience, moving faster and with more precision than Spyro had even seen in the guardians. While Spyro did manage to connect with some significant blows on his opponent, Nexus paid them back double every time. Spyro found himself pushed to the limit of his abilities as he tried to keep up with his opponent, and this only highlighted his other problem: his leg.

As much as he tried not to acknowledge it, his leg was slowing him down. His movements weren't as fluid as he was used to, and on a couple of occasions he very nearly found himself in an unrecoverable situation when a slight trip or stumble that shouldn't have happened caused his rhythm to slip. He knew that Nexus was aware of this, even if he hadn't made any move to take advantage of it yet, but Spyro felt certain that he was only biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity.

All the while, the other purple dragon's face was a mask of cold focus, while Spyro felt a storm of anger and mounting frustration within him. He knew that if things continued the way they were going, Nexus's skill and patience would only increase his advantage as the battle drew on. He needed some way to end this fight before victory became unreachable, but he couldn't see how to do that. Rarely had he felt this helpless to overpower an opponent, and beneath his anger, he could the first hints of fear gripping at his chest.

Finally, in an act borne of frustration and desperation, Spyro used his Dragon Time to freeze his opponent in place after he suffered a strong blow to his shoulder and reached the end of his patience. While Nexus was unable to defend himself Spyro charged forward and rammed him in the chest as hard as he could with his horns. Nexus cried out in pain and surprise as he was thrown back through the air once Spyro's time control wore off. Spyro leapt after him, determined to finish him off before he could recover.

To his shock and dismay, however, Nexus did recover, and much faster than Spyro would have thought was possible from a hit like that. It was as if no hit could truly faze him. Before Spyro had even reached him Nexus lurched up and swung a balled forepaw around. His paw came down directly on top of Spyro's poison scar, and despite his efforts the purple dragon roared in pain, hopping back away from his foe with his injured leg held close to him.

He staggered abruptly when he felt another blow land on his left flank, then another to his head. Last of all, he felt Nexus's talons tear through the scales on his chest before the other purple dragon sent him flying back through the air from a point-blank blast of earth energy from his jaws. Spyro hit the ground hard, and for a long time he was unable to rise as a tremendous ache settled over his whole body, groaning from the pain. Farther away, Nexus was standing in a rigid stance, his expression tight.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this!" he snapped while Spyro was still down, frustration thick in his tone. "We were never supposed to fight each other! I never wanted this! We're brothers, for the Ancestors' sake!"

"Some brother!" Spyro retorted as he struggled to rise to his feet, bitterness coursing through him. "What kind of brother does this?"

"One who has no other choice."

Something about those words caused Spyro to hesitate, and he turned a suspicious, skeptical gaze toward the other purple dragon. He was wary of some sort of trick, but there was an almost hopeless-sounding tone hidden in the other dragon's voice that hadn't been there before. It sounded genuine.

"What are you talking about?" he growled. "I've seen and heard the things you've done. This is all like some game to you. You enjoy it!"

"Enjoy it?" Nexus repeated, a look of shock crossing his face before being replaced by an expression of what almost looked like disgust. "This is about survival! I may enjoy the challenge, and proving my power and skill, but the rest of it? If I don't do this, I'm dead. That's all there is to it!"

"You're trying to make yourself out to be a victim?" Spyro snorted incredulously. "After what you've done?"

"No," Nexus growled back. "I'm just telling it to you as it is."

Spyro snorted again, but he didn't make any further retort. Once again, he had detected no lie in Nexus's words. Though he couldn't understand it, it almost seemed to him in that moment as if Nexus didn't truly _want_ to do what he was doing. Or at least, if he didn't doubt his mission, he might regret some of the means he had employed. Spyro tried to shake this thought from his mind, knowing he couldn't afford to have doubts confusing him, but despite his efforts a lingering uncertainty still remained, even as he spoke his reply.

"It doesn't matter," he said finally. "Because I'm never going to go with you."

Nexus almost looked hurt by Spyro's rejection of his words, but then his expression turned to a scowl.

"Oh, you're coming," he said darkly. "Even if I have to drag your unconscious body through the portal with me. Just like me, you don't have any choice in this."

Spyro gave a low, warning growl and settled once again into a low stance. His body still burned from the strain the battle had caused so far, but he wasn't about to back down. Whether or not Nexus's words and confessions had been true, he wasn't going to let himself be taken as a hostage to whatever destination Nexus had in mind.

Seeing Spyro settling into a fighting stance with anger burning in his eyes, Nexus's own gaze darkened into a glare, and he gave a low huff as a sneer formed on his muzzle. Then he too dropped into a battle stance, his talons clenching against the stone beneath his paws.

With a pair of terrible, echoing roars, the two purple dragons lunged.

***.*.***

"Alright, there's the entrance."

Flash glanced back toward the other dragons in their small group from his position crouched behind a cluster of bushes. The opening to the cavern that sheltered his village was just ahead of them, guarded by a pair of grublin soldiers. The other dragons and Sparx all looked past him toward the opening, judging the situation. All of them bore grim expressions, but none more so than Cynder.

The dragoness had been unnervingly silent for the last stretch of their advance, but Flash couldn't blame her. The loss of Spyro from their group had caught them all thoroughly unprepared, especially when it had been in such an abrupt, unexpected manner. Now Cynder seemed as though her resolve had been battered badly. The force of will it had taken her to continue on with their mission instead of flying off in a desperate search for the purple dragon was something that Flash couldn't begin to imagine, but it seemed that even now she was still struggling.

An image of the frightening scene flared up in his mind, and Flash winced before turning away from the other dragons to hide his trouble. The worry that consumed him felt sickening. Spyro was his friend, but now there was absolutely no way of knowing where Nexus had taken him, and no way of tracking him down. Nexus could have taken him anywhere, and though he tried not to acknowledge the thought, he knew inside that it was entirely possible they would never be able to find Spyro.

"Alright, let's finish this quickly," Cynder growled finally, her hollow, blank expression being replaced by one of seething anger as she glared up at the grublins, ready to tear apart anything that stood in her way as anger at Spyro's loss flooded through her. When Flash saw that look in her eyes, a twinge of fear ran through him. "The sooner we free these dragons, the sooner we can start looking for Spyro."

The other dragons and Sparx all nodded their heads in agreement. Cynder then glanced toward Flash before nodding her head toward the grublins.

"Let's go."

Flash nodded in reply. Then, swallowing his nerves, he followed as Cynder began creeping toward the edge of the bushes. As her body disappeared into the shadows, he focussed his own powers and turned invisible before edging out from the cover of the bushes as silently as he possibly could. The dark, shadowy patch of darkness that was Cynder moved silently away to his right, so he turned to the left to approach from the other direction. His heart hammered anxiously against his chest as he drew ever nearer to the grublins, both of which were entirely unaware of any danger, their attention fixed on the battle that was still raging just to the northeast.

Flash suddenly saw Cynder's shadow dart towards the nearest grublin, and he took that as his cue to move. He dashed forward as silently as he could and reached his target just as Cynder burst out of the shadows behind hers. Almost simultaneously they latched onto the backs of their foes and pressed a forepaw to their mouths. Flash drove the point of his tail deep into his grublin's back, severing its spine, while Cynder used the bladed tip of one of her folded wings to slice clean through her victim's throat. Both grublins fell dead to the earth.

Flash felt his gut churn with nausea as he pulled his tail blade out of the dead grublin's flesh, but he managed to suppress the feeling for the time being. Cynder, meanwhile, looked completely unfazed as she padded toward the cave entrance, that same cold look of determination on her face as before.

_I would hate to have her as an enemy_, he thought anxiously as he followed her.

Cynder poked her head around the edge of the cavern opening just as Faren, Sparx and the guards rushed over to them, trying to get behind the cover of the low trees surrounding the cave opening as quickly as possible. Once they had formed up around them, Cynder glanced back to face them.

"It looks clear. Stay close and move quickly."

"Oh, man," Sparx moaned. "Why do I always have to get stuck with the dragons heading right into the middle of the bad guys' lairs?"

"Stay if you want," Cynder retorted irritably before darting inside the cavern.

Faren and the guard dragons followed right on her tail as she disappeared through the opening in the earth. Flash paused just long enough to shoot a final glance at Sparx before he hurried after them. With another moan, Sparx flitted after him.

Once inside the cave, the group had to move quickly to reach the cover of the low buildings below and ahead of them before they were spotted by any grublins within the village—which Flash assumed there were many. Fortunately, they reached the first row of houses without any sign of being spotted, and from there the group of six dragons and Sparx advanced much more confidently.

"So where do you think the grublins would be holding a village's worth of dragons?" Cynder asked Flash as he moved up beside her at the head of the group. "Where are the dungeons where Spyro was held?"

Flash shook his head. "They wouldn't be big enough. I think we should check the main courtyard. It's farther toward the back of the cavern."

Cynder nodded after a brief moment of thought. "Alright. Lead the way, then."

Flash quickly obeyed, pulling into the lead of the group with a renewed haste about his steps. As he looked around at the state of the village, he felt a feeling of shock and sorrow growing within him. The village hadn't been in the best shape when he had left it, but now it was far worse. Whatever battle had transpired there when Nexus's grublins had subdued all the dragons, it had been brutal. There wasn't a building in sight that wasn't damaged in one way or another, many of them crumbled completely. Now, as he gazed about, Flash felt like he was looking upon a ruin. There didn't seem to be any life anywhere.

A few minutes later Flash slowed his pace as they drew nearer to the courtyard that he had mentioned. As he and the other dragons crept through the vacant, broken streets, he could now make out the sounds of grublins chattering to each other somewhere out of sight. He couldn't tell for sure, but it sounded like there were maybe around two dozen of them. He frowned; he had been expecting much more than that.

The courtyard came into view a moment later, and Flash drew to a stop just behind the corner of a mostly-intact house on his left and peered out to survey the situation. Cynder moved up by his side and poked her head past his shoulder to get a look at their opposition as well.

Within the courtyard, somewhere around fifty dragons had been rounded up and were now restricted to a confined area by a ring of grublins surrounding them on all sides. Most of them were the mid-sized soldier variants wearing armour and armed with either long-shafted axes or crossbows, but there were no fewer than five of the hulking ogre-like grublins amongst their numbers as well. Flash felt his courage waver at the sight of the sheer size of these foes, as well as their lethal-looking mace-like clubs.

"They're not restrained," Cynder noted with a hint of surprise in her voice.

Flash looked more closely at the dragons and realized that the black dragoness was right. The dragons had no form of restraints or shackles on them. The only thing keeping them contained was the guards, but it looked as though the dragons weren't keen on testing them. Most of them were covered in scratches and nasty bruises, and quite a few were nursing injuries that were even more severe.

Just then, though, his eyes fell upon one particular dragon, and he faltered in surprise. It was a dragon he would recognize anywhere, with his dark green scales, black chest, and harsh bluish-green eyes.

"That's Richter," he muttered.

"Who?" Cynder said curiously.

"Richter," Flash said, motioning with his chin at the earth dragon. "He's the village's combat instructor. He's a jerk, but he's strong."

"Do you think him and some of the other dragons will fight back if we distract the guards?"

Flash paused thoughtfully for a moment. Richter he had no doubt would leap right into the fray if even a possibility of escape presented itself, but the others he wasn't so sure about. They all looked pretty badly beaten, and he wouldn't have been surprised if their will to resist had been broken by that point. Still, Richter was a strong leader. If anyone could rally the dragons to fight, it would probably be him. Eventually he turned to Cynder and nodded.

"Alright, then let's do this," she said, returning the nod. Then she glanced back toward the other dragons in the group. "We're going to have to strike fast and try to take out as many of those grublins as we can while they're still surprised. Ready?"

The three dragon guards nodded their heads without hesitation, their faces set in grim looks of focus. A look of fear and worry flashed across Faren's expression before she too nodded. Satisfied, Cynder turned back toward the courtyard, but almost immediately a frown tugged at her features.

"We're going to have a hard time getting across that courtyard quickly enough," she muttered. "If only we had a distraction..."

Her eyes suddenly brightened from an idea, and quickly she turned her head to look straight at Sparx. The dragonfly immediately faltered.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked anxiously. "You know I hate it when you get that look."

A dark smirk stretched across Cynder's muzzle. "Sparx, how would you like a chance to be a hero?"

Sparx snorted loudly. "Like you're going to fool me with that. Don't you know me at all?"

"Alright then," Cynder continued, undaunted by the dragonfly's uncooperativeness. "Then how would you like to keep your wings attached to your body?"

Sparx faltered again, and he turned a wary eye on the dragoness.

"You wouldn't," he said, though his tone was uncertain.

"Are you sure you want to test me?"

Sparx remained silent for a few seconds, hovering indecisively and gazing nervously back at the black dragoness and her unnerving smirk. As the silence drew on, however, he looked as though he was becoming more and more uncertain. Finally he gave a sharp sigh of surrender.

"Oh, fine," he groaned. "Man, I don't know why I even bother coming along on these crazy trips. The things I do for you dragons."

"A little bit quicker, if you don't mind," Cynder said exasperatedly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going," Sparx grumbled. "But after this, you seriously all need to start appreciating me more."

"We'll see how this goes first."

"Hmph," Sparx grunted. "Alright, here goes. But I'm only doing this once, so you had better be ready to move."

Cynder merely nodded her head. Not appearing entirely satisfied, Sparx nonetheless hovered closer to the corner of the house, beyond which there was only open courtyard. He floated there for a moment, grappling with his fear and nerves and trying to shake the jitters out of himself. Then he squared his shoulders and let out a long, tense breath, focussed.

What he did next was something Flash would never have expected, but it was nothing if not effective. Without any warning, the small glowing dragonfly suddenly unleashed a piercing shriek from his mouth that was entirely at odds with his diminutive stature. At the same time, he darted out from behind the cover of the house and sped through the length of the courtyard, whizzing past the grublins and dragons like a miniature, screeching comet. All eyes, both from grublins and dragons alike, followed him as he darted past, looks of utter shock on their expressions.

Flash was so stunned that he almost didn't notice when, barely a second after Sparx shot into the courtyard, Cynder took off running into the open space as fast as her legs would carry her. He managed to shake off his surprise and joined the charge just as the dragon guards passed him, however, and despite his fear he ran as fast as he possibly could straight for the grublins.

A powerful beam of convexity was the first warning the grublins received that they were in serious peril. The devastating attack lanced out from between Cynder's jaws and tore through a pair of the grublin soldiers ahead, finishing by splintering the shield of one of the much larger grublin commanders. An instant later Faren and the guards unleashed their own elements. Two more grublins fell from expertly-placed fireballs shot out by Faren, while the guards added electricity, ice and earth into the mix. The group split, converging on different targets as the grublins only then began to turn around to face their opponents.

Cynder, who was the farthest into the courtyard out of all of them, charged straight for one of the grublin commanders. The enormous creature uttered a deep challenging bellow in response to her headlong sprint, raising its shield defensively at the same time as lifting its club, but Cynder managed to catch it unprepared by opening her jaws wide and shooting out a fierce gust of wind. The rushing air caught the lip of the grublin's shield and yanked it violently to the side. The grublin's eyes went wide and there was an audible _pop_ as its shoulder was wrenched from its socket, and the grublin barely had time to utter a cry of pain before Cynder dispatched it with another point-blank blast of convexity.

Flash, meanwhile, was just at that same moment converging on a cluster of three of the axe-wielding grublins. The dark creatures charged forward, swinging their weapons up high, ready to split him into pieces, but before they could attack Flash put on a startling burst of speed and surrounded himself in energy from his light element. The result was an attack that looked almost exactly like a fire dragon's Comet Dash, save for the fact that it was a glaring veil of light that swirled around his body, not flames. The grublins shrieked in pain as Flash barreled right through them, the light energy surrounding him exploding outward upon impact with the grublins and sending them skidding across the cobblestones of the courtyard.

By that point, unfortunately, the grublins' shock had worn off. The dozen of them that were still alive, including three of the commanders, converged on the attacking dragons. Flash was forced to jump back as one of the grublins' massive clubs swung past mere inches from his snout. He retaliated with a beam of light, but the grublin caught the attack on its shield and he was forced to dodge again as it charged for him once more.

Off to his left, Faren let out a gasp of pain as one of the other grublins caught her across the flank with the shaft of its axe. It tried to bring the other, bladed end of its weapon around to finish her off, but she barely managed to twist out of the way in time. She breathed out as intense a screen of flames as she could manage, but it was apparent that her extreme skill in ranged breath attacks was offset by weaker flames up close. The armoured grublin easily pushed through her fire, and she was forced to retreat with a fearful gasp as it charged her again.

Cynder was faring better than the rest of them, but when the two other grublin commanders converged on her she was forced to begin falling back as well. Just then one of the huge grublins swung its club. Cynder nimbly dodged to the side, avoiding the blow easily, but at that exact same moment her other foe began swinging its club down as well, and Cynder looked up with wide eyes as the spiked weapon came bearing down on her.

There was a sudden blur of dark green scales, and Flash jolted in surprise to see that Richter had leapt up onto the massive grublin's back, clamping his jaws firmly around the shaft of the club and pulling back with all his might. The grublin uttered a startled rumble, suddenly finding itself off balance as the large dragon's weight pulled down on its back, and before it could catch itself it began to tip over backward.

At that moment Richter released his hold and jumped into the air. Then, as the grublin fell, he spat a ball of green energy from his jaws that missed the grublin and instead struck the ground behind it. Flash quickly realized that this was what Richter had meant to do, however, when a cluster of savage-looking spikes burst up from the ground. The grublin was falling straight for them, and was helpless to save itself.

With a sharp roar, Richter dove down and slammed his paws into the grublin's chest, immediately jumping back off again and propelling the creature toward the ground. The huge grublin crashed down directly on top of the spikes with a wet, sickening _crunch_, and Flash cringed when he saw the tips of the spikes emerge from its chest, stained almost black from the creature's blood. The grublin gave a weak, gurgling moan before collapsing limply.

By this time Cynder had already finished off the other grublin commander with a combination of her shadow and convexity powers, and the other grublins in the courtyard had similarly been dealt with by the guards with the help of the freed villagers. When the last struggle reached its end silence descended over the area for a brief moment, the freed dragons looking at their rescuers with mildly shocked expressions still. Just then, that silence was suddenly broken by an incredulous voice.

"Flash?"

Startled slightly, Flash whipped his gaze around toward the source of the call and was surprised to see two familiar young dragons standing there, staring back at him with astonished expressions. Kryos and Gemma were practically gaping at him as he stood beside the fallen body of the grublin commander that he and the earth dragon guard from Warfang had managed to bring down together. When he saw the looks of stunned disbelief on their faces as they glanced from him to the dead grublin and back again, he couldn't help the small grin of satisfaction that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"It's certainly a surprise to see you here, Coronus," Richter rumbled in a difficult-to-read tone, and Flash turned to see the combat instructor gazing at him with a studying eye before he glanced down toward Cynder. "It's a relief to see that we haven't been completely forgotten here in the mountains. We were beginning think that no help would ever arrive."

"Thanks for your help too," Cynder said in reply, trying to ignore the slight in the earth dragon's words. "I take it that this isn't the only group of prisoners in the village. Do you know where the others are?"

Richter nodded his head. "I do. There's another group being held in a square just a bit to the north from here, and a third in a smaller courtyard at the back of the cavern."

"Alright, then let's get moving."

She turned to the north to head to the rescue of this second group of dragons, and Flash hurried to follow her, but just at that moment Sparx appeared from where he had no doubt been hiding during the battle and rushed out toward them.

"Cynder!" he called as he approached.

"Cynder?" Richter repeated immediately, turning a startled look down on the black dragoness that quickly turned to a wary scowl. "You mean..."

"Yes, Cynder," the black dragoness sighed heavily, a look of exasperation crossing her features, and Flash suspected that she didn't have anywhere near the patience to deal with insinuations about her past at the moment. "Former Terror of the Skies, enslaved by the Dark Master's corruption, then freed by a dragon who is now missing while we're here saving your backsides from the grublins. Now that that's out of our systems, can we move on?" She turned to Sparx again. "What is it, Sparx?"

"I just saw a group of grublins in the street over there," he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder toward the north. "They looked like they were in a pretty big hurry. I don't like it."

"Of course you don't," Cynder snorted. "But you're right. They're probably trying to warn the guards that are holding the other prisoners. We have to move fast." She then turned a hard look up at Richter. "Are you going to help? Or can you simply not stand fighting on the same side as the Terror of the Skies?"

Richter scowled darkly before turning around, his gaze locking quickly onto a male dragon who looked strong enough. He beckoned him over.

"Take some volunteers and find a safe place for everyone who can't fight," he instructed the other dragon. "The rest of you, let's move! We have a village to take back!"

There were a few roars and brief cheers of acknowledgement. Then Richter took the lead and moved off toward the northern edge of the courtyard with great haste about his steps. The most able-bodied of the rescued dragons followed directly after him while the rest began moving in the opposite direction, seeking shelter. Flash followed Cynder as she moved off after the large green earth dragon, a frown of irritation on her face.

The next battle went much more quickly than the first, which in itself had been fast enough to begin with. Though they weren't able to reach the next group of prisoners before the grublins relayed their warning, the increased number of attacking dragons meant that the dark creatures still didn't have a chance. For this same reason, the contest at the last prisoner group lasted barely any time at all.

"Alright, we really have to hurry," Cynder declared as the group of now almost a hundred dragons who were able to fight had gathered around them. "I don't know how long our friends can keep holding out against the grublins out there. We have to go help them."

"Lead the way, then," Richter responded gruffly. "If it means finally driving these disgusting creatures out of our village once and for all, then let's not waste any more time."

Cynder nodded her head sharply before turning to the west and kicking off into the sky. Flash followed, and soon the entire group was winging their way toward the main cavern exit. Below them, Flash could see at least a few dozen grublins in the streets below them, all of them hastening toward the village exits as well.

"Looks like they're regrouping with the main force," the guard from the eastern city commented.

Cynder nodded in agreement and put on a renewed burst of speed. They reached the exit of the cavern just moments after the last grublins disappeared through it, and without delay the dragons charged out into the valley.

What they saw when they emerged from the underground space caused them all to falter. The battle was much, _much_ closer to them than it had been when their group had first ventured underground. The grublins were more than holding their own against the dragons, but even so it looked as if they had slowly begun retreating toward the village once again, as if afraid about leaving it undefended for too long. The dragons were doing everything they could to slow them down, but they were outnumbered still, and there wasn't much they could do to stop them.

"Come on!" Cynder ordered after shaking off her surprise. "Let's go help them."

She didn't even wait for a reply before taking to the sky once again. Flash followed closely after her, though he could feel his anxiety mounting with every beat of his wings he took toward the fray. Even with the rest of their reinforced group flying close behind him, he felt vulnerable fighting out in the open.

He gave a startled gasp when, suddenly, the closest ranks of grublins to them noticed their approach and quickly spun around to face them. Apparently, instead of waiting to get caught between dragons attacking on both sides, the grublins decided to pre-empt them by going on an offensive charge first. What looked to be well over a hundred grublins surged toward them with their terrible cries piercing through the dark overcast sky, and many more were following right behind them.

"Stay together!" Cynder called over the racket the charging grublins caused, at the same time angling down closer to the ground, ready to meet the grublins' charge in her own. "Attack them head on!"

Flash forced a fearful swallow through a throat that was clenched with mounting fear and dread, and he glanced beside him toward Faren who looked even more afraid. She met his gaze for a brief moment before turning her wide eyes back toward the hoard of grublins, which were drawing ever closer with each second that passed.

Then, amidst a flurry of sharp cries and roars, the two fronts met.

***.*.***

Spyro gave a sharp snarl of pain as a shard of ice whizzed past him, one of its jagged edges cutting a gash across his shoulder. He barely even had time to register the sharp sting of the air against the thin cut in his scales before he was forced to dodge away from a swipe of Nexus's talons. He tried to retaliate with a swing of his own claws, but Nexus managed to deflect the attack with his wing. A split second later he shot a forepaw forward and struck Spyro soundly in the centre of his chest, knocking him backward and forcing the wind out of his lungs.

Every inch of his body burned, and when he tried to move it felt like his limbs were weighted down with lead. Nexus was clearly tiring as well, but at nowhere near the same rate that Spyro was. The anger that had been flooding through him not so long before had flickered out quite some time ago to be replaced by a growing sense of helplessness. No matter what he did, Nexus seemed to be one step ahead of him. He could read the signs and tides of battle like no dragon he had ever seen before, and it was all too obvious that now he was entirely settled into his element.

Out of desperation, Spyro spat out an earth missile aimed at Nexus's right flank before dashing over to his opponent's left, trying to catch him exposed after dodging the elemental attack, but before he could reach his target Nexus knocked his forelegs out from underneath him with his tail, and Spyro gave a startled cry as he crashed to the ground, the hard stone scraping painfully against the scales of his underbelly.

He winced as he felt something ram into his flank, rolling him over onto his back, and out of instinct he lashed out blindly with his talons. He felt the claws of his right forepaw digging through scales, and a pained cry from Nexus informed him that he had scored a hit. He didn't have any time to celebrate this small victory before something hard slammed into his stomach, however, and he doubled over with a winded grunt as dull pain shot through him.

When he managed to open his eyes at last he saw Nexus standing over him, blood dripping from a pair of fresh slash marks on the front of his left shoulder. He was breathing heavily as he glared down at the other purple dragon, using one forepaw to pin him to the ground while he held the talons of the other against the side of Spyro's throat.

"You're good. I'll give you that," Nexus growled, sounding immensely frustrated by how long this battle was taking. "But you're just delaying the inevitable now. Face it; you can't win. You're all alone, and you're no match for me."

A rush of cold fear coursed through Spyro's veins, but quickly it was replaced by a feeling of desperation. Even if Nexus wasn't trying to kill him, this had become a struggle to survive, and now his instincts were taking over. With a weak cry Spyro kicked out as hard as he could with his hind legs, and somehow he managed to hit Nexus hard enough to weaken his grip. He immediately seized the opening by unleashing a shockwave of electricity from his body, funneling all the strength he could muster into the attack.

Nexus staggered backward with a grunt as the energy blast struck him full on in the chest, and Spyro scrambled frantically to his feet before limping farther out onto the plateau, trying to place some separation between him and his opponent. He had barely spun around to face his foe again when Nexus leapt after him, however, his eyes flashing with annoyance and his jaw set in a scowl.

Spyro tried once again to land a blow with his talons, but Nexus parried the attack with his own. Twice more Spyro lashed out, almost like a cornered animal, and twice more Nexus deflected the attacks as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Then pain exploded up from Spyro's right foreleg as Nexus punched out with a forepaw and caught him just above the elbow, and barely a second later he staggered as Nexus spun around and smashed his tail into Spyro's flank. He tried to catch his balance but couldn't quite manage it, and at that same moment he felt his eyes widen in panic when Nexus suddenly disappeared from in front of him.

A crippling impact on his lower right flank lifted him up into the air, and through vision partially obscured by flashing stars he saw Nexus leap up beside him. The other purple dragon kicked out with all four of his paws, and Spyro winced as the savage blow sent him rocketing toward the ground. He thought he felt the kick snap one of his ribs, but before he could even fully register this thought the impact with the ground sent a fresh wave of pain crashing through him.

As soon as he stopped skidding along the ground, Spyro scrambled weakly to his feet and started lurching for the nearest edge of the plateau. He didn't know where he was going, and deep inside he knew that he was never going to get there with Nexus chasing him, but that thought didn't reach him through the haze of panic that had settled over his mind. Instinct was driving him to try and escape, for it was all too clear that there was no way he could win this fight. The others had all been right. Terrador had been right. His leg had been too great of a hindrance for him to overcome, and even without that shortcoming Nexus's superior combat skills had caught him unprepared. He had never stood a chance.

He pushed off the ground as hard as his battered legs could manage and beat his heavy wings frantically in a blind dash for escape, but he had barely left the ground before he felt teeth clamp down on the tip of his tail and yank him backward.

"You're not going anywhere!" Nexus snarled through clenched jaws before yanking his head backward with all his might.

Spyro cried out in panic as he tumbled out of the sky and crashed into the ground, rolling a few feet before coming to rest in a heap on his back, panting from exhaustion and fear. He could hear Nexus approaching, but he was too dazed to move. Then he felt a forepaw press down on his flank to pin him to the ground, and another clench around the leading edge of his left wing. He had only a second to wonder what the other purple dragon was doing before Nexus wrenched the wing sideways with savage force.

Spyro's eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he felt his wing tear free from its socket, and an instant later he screamed as pain exploded through his entire being. It felt as if his wing had been ripped clean off his body, and he moaned through clenched fangs as tears of pain spilled free from his tightly-closed eyes. He tried to struggle, but between the pain flooding from his dislocated wing and the pressure that Nexus was putting on his side, he could go nowhere.

"Stop fighting!" Nexus roared, both out of anger but also with an almost pleading note hidden in his voice. "Enough! Face it, Spyro. You've lost!"

"No!" Spyro cried desperately, struggling more forcefully but once again unable to free himself. "Never! I'm not going with you!"

"You don't have a choice!" Nexus snapped. "Face the facts, Spyro! I'm stronger than you! You're injured, and you can't possibly beat me now! You're all alone here, without any of your friends to help you. It's just you and me. You can't win!"

"No!" Spyro shouted, though the cry was feebler than before, the pain from his wing began growing to be too intense for him to bear, forcing him closer and closer to the brink of unconsciousness as his weakened, battered body simply couldn't fight any more.

But deep inside he realized that Nexus was right, and this sent a surge of panic and helplessness tearing through him. It was true; there was nothing he could do to stop Nexus now. Because of his own blindness and anger, he had set himself up to fall. Now he had no one there to help him when he needed it the most. The friends that he had pushed away because of his own pain and hurt couldn't save him. In that moment he wished for nothing else than to have the guardians and his friends around him, there to support him when his own strength wasn't enough, but there was nothing now that could be done. He was alone.

_Cynder, where are you?_

He tried to struggle again, but as soon as he did Nexus put more pressure on his wing, and Spyro immediately went rigid all over as a strained moan leaked through his clenched jaws. He managed to force one eye open and looked up to see Nexus staring down at him, his features tight and grim. In his eyes, Spyro could see a startling mixture of anger, frustration, bitterness, and even a hint of pain.

"Now, you're coming with me," he growled. "This is how it has to be. Just don't struggle; there's no reason to cause yourself any more pain fighting something that can't be stopped."

As he spoke, Spyro suddenly saw a point of flickering violet light appear above them. A second later there was a brilliant flash and a nearly deafening _BOOM_ sounded out over the mountains. Spyro snapped his eyes shut against the glare, wincing as the bright light caused pain to stab at his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again, he faltered with a cold feeling of horror when he saw a swirling portal of convexity growing in the air above the plateau. Only this one wasn't like the ones he had seen Nexus using. This one was many, _many_ times larger and infinitely deeper. It looked almost like the portal Cynder had used to enter Convexity after their first battle at the top of her fortress. The air around them began swirling, sucked toward the portal, and Spyro could soon feel the tug pulling on his wings and body as well.

Terror exploded through him, but he found that he was unable to move as shock and horror filled his soul. All he could do was stare helplessly up at the growing opening that seemed almost like a massive set of jaws, ready to snap him up and carry him away from that world forever.

And he was powerless to stop it.

***.*.***

"Stay together!" Cynder called out to be heard over the roar of battle. "Don't let them split us up! Stay in formation!"

Flash ducked as a grublin swung its blade for his head, and he felt a jolt as the leading edge clipped the end of his left horn. Before the grublin could swing again he cracked his jaws open and unleashed a focussed blast of light, sending the squealing creature shooting back through the air with severe burns covering its body. No sooner had he rid himself of this grublin than did another come charging for him, however, and the flustered white dragon was forced onto the defensive once again.

All order on the battlefield had descended into utter chaos. Now there was no longer any discernible line separating the armies of grublins and dragons. Everything was just a mass of thrashing bodies as each combatant on the field focussed on a patch of land barely a few feet across in all directions, hoping to dispatch their foes with talons, teeth, clubs or swords before they dispatched them.

Flash managed to knock the sword from the grip of the grublin he was battling, and with a quick spin he brought his tail blade up and slashed the creature across the width of its chest, nearly slicing it in two. He tried not to look at the blood as the grublin collapsed, broken, to the earth, forcing down the bile that rose to his throat. This battle was the most horrible thing he had ever seen in his life, worse than the ones he had seen in his village and in Warfang by quite a margin. Fear pounded through him as shrieks of pain and death rang out from every direction, and his eyes darted this way and that only to be met with the sight of vicious fighting.

"There's no end to them!" a nearby dragon guard exclaimed, and Flash felt panic shoot through him when he saw that it was a dragon that he didn't recognize. Where were the others from his group? Where had Cynder and Faren gone? "They just won't quit!"

Flash jolted when a sudden, resounding boom like thunder echoed over the land, and when he looked up he faltered when, far to the north, a swirling mass of violet energy was forming. It looked like one of the portals that Nexus had used to grab Spyro, but it was so big! In that moment, the fighting ceased for just a second as all the dragons and grublins looked up toward the growing portal.

_What's happening?_ Flash thought fearfully.

A sudden bone-chilling shriek sounded from somewhere off to his right, startling Flash back to reality, and he looked just in time to see a mass of grublin bodies surge toward them. The grublins seemed to be trying to take advantage of the momentary distraction to take their enemies by surprise, and they arranged themselves into a wedge formation as they drove right through the heart of the group of dragons he found himself in. Though they tried to remain together, the dragons couldn't stop the grublins from splitting their ranks apart. In only a matter of seconds Flash suddenly found himself completely cut off from the rest of his kind. He was alone, with nothing but grublins rushing past on all sides.

He let out a startled squeal as a grublin suddenly leapt straight for him, and out of instinct he swung his wing around and managed to knock his assailant off balance. Its blade missed the white dragon by a scale and dug into the soft, torn-up earth of the battlefield. Flash was too stunned to react for a moment, but when the grublin yanked its blade free from the ground he felt fear explode through him, and without thinking he shot out another beam of light. The grublin screamed and fell back toward the ring of grublins surrounding them, dead.

Flash spun in a tight circle, looking desperately for some route of escape, but he realized with a plunging feeling in his gut that he was completely boxed in. There was nowhere he could go to escape the reach of the grublins' weapons. Slowly, with an air of dark purpose about their steps, the grublins began to converge on him, a terrible eagerness flashing in their red eyes.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a writhing ball of dark shadow exploded directly in front of a group of the grublins, scattering them like limp rag dolls blown away by a hurricane gust. A split-second later another patch of shadow burst upward, only this time it was the body of a dragon that emerged from the tendrils of blackness, spinning in a circle and slicing with their talons at the grublins they had knocked into the air. Flash expected to see Cynder when the dragon landed on the ground, but to his surprise he was wrong. Still, it was a dragon that he recognized immediately.

"Sarix?" he said in shock.

"Hey there," the black dragon grunted in reply, jerking his head back and narrowly escaping being decapitated by a grublin's blade before retaliating with a wave of shadow fire. "Need a hand?"

"Where did you come from?" Flash demanded.

"How about we talk about it later?" Sarix answered, ducking another grublin's blade. "Let's just get out of here!"

Still feeling quite startled, Flash nonetheless nodded his head and followed as the black dragon dashed through the gap in the ring of grublins that his shadow bomb had created. Almost immediately they were cut off by another cluster of the dark creatures, however, and before they knew it they were forced back to back as they repelled the seemingly endless tide of assailants.

"This is ridiculous!" Sarix exclaimed. "How are there so many of them?"

"I have no idea!" Flash shouted in reply after unleashing a beam of his light breath, managing to fell two charging grublins only for the gap to be filled with three more.

"Just keep fighting! They can't keep this up forever!"

"Neither can we!"

Sarix didn't reply, focussing his attention entirely on the battle at hand. Flash likewise fell silent, trying to quell the fear inside of him and focus on his task, but he found this to be difficult to achieve. His heart was hammering out of control, and he felt feverish all over, almost breathless. He couldn't keep up this pace. It was all just too much for him to take.

He cried out in pain suddenly as a grublin's blade sliced past the side of his neck, leaving a thin bloody line in his scales, and in his stunned surprise he staggered and fell as the grublin lunged for him again. He could only watch helplessly as the hideous creature bore down on him, blade angled to plunge through his chest.

The grublin suddenly uttered a strangled grunt as Sarix rammed his horns into its side, knocking it back through the air barely a fraction of a second before it ended Flash's life, and Flash could only stare in shock when he realized that he was still alive. Meanwhile, Sarix was battling desperately to hold the grublins back, but he was rapidly becoming overwhelmed. There were simply too many to hold back, and though he had already managed to kill at least a dozen grublins over the course of less than a minute he couldn't hold out against them.

Suddenly the black dragon uttered a scream of pain, and Flash felt his blood turn to ice when he saw a grublin standing over Sarix with its blade buried deep in the scales of his back. Sarix's body went rigid all over, his jaws clenched as he struggled against the pain flooding through his body, but only a moment later his eyes filled with anger, and with a strained snarl he spun around and slashed the grublin across the face with his talons. Then, still with the grublin's sword sticking out from his back, he began lashing out at any grublins that ventured within reach, lost in a frenzy.

Flash felt his eyes widen in horror when he saw another grublin bearing down on the black dragon from behind, and he leapt up as fast as he could and intercepted its blade with his tail. The grublin staggered, startled by the white dragon's sudden appearance and in this opening he was able to finish it off with his talons. Barely seconds after this was accomplished, however, he felt something crash into his side and he was knocked to the ground once again.

"Flash!" Sarix cried, his voice sounding strained and distant.

The black dragon leapt over to his side and tried to fend off a grublin that had been advancing on Flash while he was down, but it looked as if the sword in his back was really starting to slow him down, blood already coating his flank. Then he slipped, his limbs weakening, and in this opening another grublin rushed forward. Flash could only watch helplessly as the grublin drove its blade into the black dragon's flank, earning another roar of pain.

Sarix staggered weakly as the two combined wounds began to sap his strength. The grublins around him began slowly closing in, sensing that his strength was failing, but it seemed just then that the black dragon's resistance hadn't deserted him yet. He glared up at the advancing grublins before closing his eyes tightly, a pained look of enormous concentration twisting his features.

Flash gave a small gasp as the air around Sarix began to writhe with shadow, and the grublins also faltered and began backing fearfully away. It was too late for them, however. With a final, defiant roar, Sarix threw his head back before unleashing all his energy in a shadow fury. Flash ducked behind the cover of his wings as the shockwave of pure darkness exploded out from the black dragon's body, but he was unharmed by the elemental wave of energy. The grublins, meanwhile, were either swallowed up whole by the wave of shadow or sent flying through the air. In less than a second an area a dozen metres across had been completely cleared of grublins, leaving Flash and Sarix lying alone.

Flash cautiously peered out behind his wings, and he felt worry and fear explode through him when he saw Sarix lying motionlessly a few feet away. Without wasting a second he was on his feet and had dashed over to the other young dragon's side. Anxiously he rested a paw on Sarix's flank, and he felt a tiny, fleeting sense of relief when he was able to feel a heartbeat, but it was faint and fading rapidly.

Sarix wearily cracked his eyes open and looked up at Flash, and as he stared back down at him Flash found that he was unable to say anything. Weakly, the black dragon forced an unsteady smile.

"Well...I tried," he gasped.

Again Flash couldn't think of anything to say, and in the end all he could do was nod. He wasn't even sure if Sarix saw it, for the black dragon's eyes were rapidly clouding as his strength ebbed. Then, with a final, weak groan, he went limp.

A cold, numb feeling swept over Flash as he stared down at the young dragon's body. The only thing he could think of was how unfair it was that this should happen. This dragon had only just begun his life, and now the grublins had stolen it from him, just as they had stolen so much from all the dragons in that village. With that thought, he began thinking of all the things he himself had lost as well. He had lost a home. He had lost a brother. And now a dragon who had wanted nothing more than to help him—on two occasions now—had been wrenched away as well.

A burning anger sparked to life deep within him, and slowly he turned a glare up toward the grublins that were just now beginning to pick themselves up from Sarix's final fury attack. The sight of the creatures that had caused so much pain and death kindled within him a fire of rage that he had never felt before in his life. It spread throughout his being, filling every ounce of his soul and making him feel like he was about to burst from the sheer force of it. He suddenly felt like every inch of his body was burning from an indescribable heat, and as the pressure continued to mount Flash closed his eyes and gritted his fangs, unable to bear it.

Only a second later the blazing anger and pressure grew to be too great for him to contain any longer, and Flash tilted his head back and unleashed the loudest roar his lungs could possibly produce. At that same moment, a blazing shockwave of light exploded out of his body. The blast from his fury attack swept out toward the ranks of grublins and slammed into them before they could brace themselves, launching them through the air with screams of pain as the savage light and heat burned their bodies away.

Because his rage was directed only at the grublins any dragons in the area were unharmed by his attack, but they were still forced to shield their eyes with their wings to avoid being blinded by the tremendous glare radiating out from his body. It was as if a miniature sun had dropped from the sky and landed right in the centre of the battle, and any grublins within a hundred metres in any direction were killed in a matter of seconds.

Finally, after what felt like ages, the flow of power ceased. Flash gasped weakly, feeling drained like he never had before, both physically and emotionally. Everything around him began to blur, and slowly he found himself falling. Feeling exhausted like no words could describe, he simply collapsed to the ground beside Sarix's motionless form and slipped into the merciful peace of unconsciousness.

***.*.***

_This can't be it!_ Spyro thought as terror surged through his mind. _This can't be how it ends! I have to get out of here!_

But he was helpless to free himself. Nexus held him pinned firmly to the ground beneath him, staring up at the portal that was growing above him. Spyro couldn't tell if it was him that was creating the portal, and he was focussed on maintaining it, or whether the portal was being formed from some other source and the other purple dragon was just mesmerized by the swirling lights. His face was grim, as though the portal represented an end or some form of loss to him, but Spyro felt only fear as he gazed upon it. Wherever it led, he was certain that he wasn't going to like it.

He struggled as hard as he could, ignoring the pain that exploded from his dislocated wing as he twisted and squirmed. Nexus gave an irritated snarl and pressed his forepaws down harder on top of him, trying to keep him still.

"Would you just stop?" he shouted angrily. "You just never quit, do you! Stop! It won't help anything!"

Spyro didn't listen, continuing to kick and thrash blindly. But then, without any warning, something happened that neither of them were expecting.

A piercing roar from the south somehow carried over the rumble of the portal directly above them, and both Spyro and Flash looked toward the source only to be momentarily blinded as an unbelievable burst of light flared into existence. Spyro snapped his eyes shut and grunted as his vision flashed, and above him he could hear Nexus utter a similar startled growl.

He opened his eyes at the same time that Nexus did, and he looked up to see the other purple dragon turn to stare at the explosion of light with a look of shock on his face, wondering just what could have created such a blast. Spyro suddenly realized that this moment of distraction was probably the only chance that he was going to get, and he seized it without hesitation.

Rocking his head up sharply, he managed to catch Nexus in the chin with his horns. Nexus cried out in shock and pain as his head was snapped to the side by the sudden, vicious blow, and when his grip on him slipped Spyro leapt up and spun around to face Nexus again. As soon as he had, he spat out an earth missile that struck Nexus square in the chest and knocked him limply back across the plateau.

Spyro didn't even pause to think. As soon as the earth missile had struck its target he gathered up whatever strength remained to him and called upon his Dragon Time power. The world around him fell instantly silent as all became frozen in place. The drain on his energy was tremendous, exhausted as he was, but somehow he managed to force his legs to work and he sprinted clumsily to the edge of the plateau.

The drop to the mountain slope below him was a long one, and with one of his wings dislocated Spyro couldn't glide down from it, but regardless he didn't pause before throwing himself off the edge. He landed hard and stumbled, crying in pain as his wing and broken rib were jolted in the tumble, but somehow he ended up on his feet again and ran as fast as he could to the trees below him in the valley. Once he reached them he didn't stop, even though his vision was beginning to blur and fade and his head was spinning beyond belief. Only once he was certain that the trees had him completely covered did he stop, and as he released his hold on time he collapsed to a breathless heap on the ground.

Up above on the plateau everything was silent for a moment, but then through the canopy of leaves above him Spyro could blearily see Nexus jump into the air and begin circling, casting his gaze about for the purple dragon that had escaped him. He searched at a frantic pace, darting this way and that through the air, and on two occasions he passed much too close to Spyro's hiding place for comfort, but it looked as though he was unable to locate his quarry.

Finally, Nexus abandoned his search, realizing that Spyro had escaped him. For a moment he simply hovered above the plateau, glaring up at the portal swirling above him, before he tipped his head back and let out a bellowing roar filled with rage and frustration. The anguished cry echoed hauntingly over the mountains, and from where he lay under the cover of the trees Spyro felt a cold tremor run through him.

There was a small flash of light as Nexus conjured a convexity portal in front of himself, and with a single beat of his wings he shot through it, disappearing from sight as he fled the scene of his failure.

For a moment all was still, save for the remaining, much larger convexity portal. Then, with a rumbling crash louder than thunder, this portal also collapsed in on itself, fading from existence. The echoing rumble faded into the distance, and with it Spyro could feel his terror and panic slowly receding when he realized that it was over.

The last echo died out, and all was silent.

* * *

><p><strong>So, as I've said once before, the character Sarix is not mine. He belongs to Talon the Dragon, who loaned him to me for his (now completed) role in this story. I feel sorta bad for killing him, but hey, it was a hero's death, so that has to count for something, right?<strong>

**Boy, what kind of trouble is Nexus in now? It doesn't look like things are going to go well for him from here...**

**We'll just have to wait and see how this turns out.**

**Until next time...**


	32. Chapter 31

**Oh yeah. Another quick update, and loving it! I don't know how I'm managing it, but I'm just feeling on a roll right now. So excited!**

**Anyway, not *quite* as long as the last one (mercifully), but still quite large, isn't it? Oh well, what's a guy to do? Got a plot to advance, here.**

**Hope you like!**

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><p><em><span>Chapter 31:<span>_

The climb down the face of the mountain would have been difficult even under the best of conditions. However, with one dislocated wing, at least one cracked rib, and with the weight of exhaustion practically dragging him right into the ground, Spyro had found it nearly impossible. He couldn't even count the number of times he had stumbled or fallen during his descent, and now the burning ache that filled his body was nearly unbearable.

It had now been almost half an hour as far as he could tell since he had finally reached the bottom of the mountain and begun his trek southward through the wooded valley, but to him it felt like infinitely longer. He didn't know where he found the strength to keep moving forward, his weariness from the battle he had lost and barely escaped making every step a struggle. His lungs burned, his limbs ached, and his rib and wing were practically in agony. On a couple of occasions now he had felt himself beginning to slip out of consciousness from the sheer might of the pain, but somehow he had managed to catch himself before falling completely.

A rustle to his left caused him to utter a startled gasp and freeze, wide eyes whipping around in the direction of the noise. He could see nothing moving, and in truth he wasn't even sure he hadn't imagined the sound. Trapped on the ground as he was, wounded and weakened, even the slightest disturbance was enough to send a jolt of panic and fear through him. He realized then that a dragon didn't truly appreciate their ability to fly until it was robbed from them, but now that the ability was stripped from him he wished desperately for nothing more than to be able to soar above the trees where it was safe.

He felt utterly vulnerable, trapped on the ground in the darkness cast by the thick impenetrable clouds. If danger were to befall him in that moment he was almost certain that he wouldn't be able to escape again. He was too tired and hurt to run, and he seriously doubted that he would be able to fight back against any threat. He was so weary he didn't think he would even be able to use his elements anymore if the need arose, unless he were fortunate enough to somehow stumble across a green spirit gem in the near future. As it was he felt more defenceless than he ever had in his life.

More than that, he felt alone.

_I'm such a fool_, he thought forlornly as he warily began plodding through the trees once more, fearful eyes darting about his surroundings. _How could I think I could do this on my own? How could I think that I didn't need anyone's help?_

Another rustle caused him to whip his gaze up and to his right, but this time he didn't stop. Instead he pushed his pace faster, despite the blazing stabs of pain that shot up from his rib and from the shoulder joint of his dislocated wing which was hanging limply against his side, the tip dragging along the rough earth.

_I wish Sparx was here_, the purple dragon whimpered within his mind. _Or Cynder. Or Flash, or the guardians. I don't want to be alone_.

His mind flashed back to the feeling of utter terror and helplessness he had felt when Nexus had overpowered him, ready to drag him through that portal. It was a feeling that he never wanted to experience again and it gripped at his chest with suffocating force, causing his heart to race and his breathing to come in short, strained gasps. It only amplified the fear he was already feeling, and though he hadn't realized it he had started running through the forest, as if fleeing some unseen pursuer.

The pain in his flank and his wing was excruciating, but he didn't dare slow down. He was desperate to reach the safety offered by the presence of his companions. Nothing else mattered in that moment. While he was alone he was helpless. He just couldn't believe that he hadn't been able to see that sooner.

In his blind, headlong run, Spyro didn't notice the dip in the terrain ahead of him. By the time he did see it, it was too late. His forepaw slipped out from underneath him, and for a brief moment he felt a sickening sensation of falling through space before his world exploded with agony as he crashed into the ground. The gentle downward slope of this portion of the valley only increased the duration of his rolling tumble, and it was only the trunk of a mid-sized tree that brought him to an abrupt halt.

His ribs felt like someone had driven the blade of a sword that had been heated until it was red-hot through his bones, and his wing blazed with pain he couldn't even begin to describe. It was impossible to breathe past the torturous sensation, and as he lay there in a battered heap on the earth all he could utter was a frail whimper as tears spilled from his eyes. He tried to shift his forelegs to push himself to his feet, but the motion only caused another lance of agony within his broken body. In the end he simply surrendered to his pain, lying as motionlessly as possible and willing for the torment to stop.

A faint, distant call floated through the trees on the gentle wind, but through the haze of pain that covered his mind Spyro didn't hear it. A few seconds later it came again, though, closer this time, and Spyro went still when it reached him. With a tremendous effort of will he forced his ragged breathing to still, remaining frozen in place as he waited for the sound to come again. A minute later, it did.

"Spyro!"

Spyro's head jerked up when he realized that it was his name that he was hearing, and with a dull feeling of surprise he turned his gaze to the south, looking up through the thin canopy of the trees. Could it be? Was someone looking for him? After all that had happened that day, he wasn't sure if he could allow himself to hope. Just then, though, the call came again, clearer than ever before.

"Spyro, where are you?" came the almost pleading voice, and this time he recognized it.

"Cynder?" he gasped weakly.

A sudden surge of energy took hold of his body, and with fangs gritted and eyes misted over from the pain he managed to push himself to his feet and began staggering toward the sound of the black dragoness's voice. He could barely manage a walking pace by that point, but minute by minute he could hear Cynder's voice drawing closer. Then up ahead he could see the trees beginning to thin out as he approached a small clearing, and the purple dragon eagerly angled toward it.

"Spyro!" Cynder called again, her voice sounding the closest yet. "Spyro, please, answer me! Where are you?"

"Cynder!" Spyro tried to respond, but he was so winded from the pain in his ribs and the exertion he had put himself through that his voice came out as a weak croak.

The sound of beating wings could be heard now, seeming to come from directly above him, and a feeling of panic exploded through the purple dragon when he realized that Cynder was already passing him by. The clearing was only a few metres away, but he wasn't going to reach it in time.

With a final, desperate lunge, Spyro burst out of the trees and staggered to an unsteady halt in the clearing. Swaying on wobbly legs, he turned his gaze up to the sky, searching desperately for a glint of black and magenta against the charcoal grey of the thick clouds.

"Spyro!" came the call again.

"I'm here!" he called back, putting as much strength into the cry as he could possibly manage, his ribs screaming in protest. "Cynder, down here! Please, help! Here!"

There was no answer to his cry, and he was unable to see any sign of her above. The sound of beating wings began to fade, and cold terror began gripping at his chest. He was too late. She had missed him.

"Please," he gasped weakly. "Come back..."

No reply.

His heart fell when he realized that the black dragoness was gone, a feeling of numbness slowly being replaced by sorrow. With a dejected sigh he let his head droop toward the ground, feeling his hope crumbling. He was still alone, still helpless, and now he could feel his fear beginning to return. There was no way he could keep going like this. He was never going to reach the others now.

The soft beat of leathery wings caused his head to twitch up slightly, but at first he dismissed it as his imagination, not daring to allow himself to hope again. But then he realized that not only was the sound real, but growing louder with each passing moment. As the frantic flapping continued to grow in volume he turned his head up to the sky again, faint anticipation rising within him.

"Spyro!" came a sudden, astonished exclamation, and Spyro whipped his head around to his right to see Cynder descending straight toward the clearing, a look of shock but also indescribable relief on her expression.

The black dragoness hardly paused to slow her descent before she dropped down to the earth and charged straight for him. Spyro was mildly shocked as she raced toward him, but he hardly had time to acknowledge the feeling before she was upon him.

"Spyro, there you are!" Cynder cried with emotion thick in her voice, and before Spyro knew what was happening she had bounded right up to him and grabbed hold of him with her forelegs, embracing him with surprising intensity. "Thank the Ancestors! I was so scared!"

Spyro found himself unable to answer for a brief moment, stunned by her sudden gesture and not even remotely knowing how he should react to it. For several long seconds he remained frozen in place, but eventually the feeling of surprise was replaced by one of unfathomable relief, and he felt his body sag as he released an enormous sigh. He winced as she put pressure on his ribs in her embrace, but he was too overcome by relief and happiness at no longer being on his own to care.

Feeling safe and secure with her there again, Spyro closed his eyes and lowered his head until the side of his muzzle rested against her neck, drawing his wings around her and holding her tightly as he allowed all his fear and pain from the past few days melt away. Cynder seemed caught off guard when the purple dragon returned the embrace, but barely a second later she released a contented sigh and tightened her own hold, burying her face in the scales of his neck above his chest.

"I was so afraid I had lost you," she whispered, emotion causing a slight hitch in her voice. "When we saw that portal...you have no idea how scared I was, Spyro."

Spyro remained silent, savouring the contact between them that he hadn't realized just how much he had missed in the past several days of self-imposed isolation. It felt as if a crushing weight had been lifted from his shoulders, for he no longer had to bear his burdens and pain alone. So great was his relief and the sensation of peace that came with it that he thought he felt his eyes misting over, and with a quiet sniffle he reached up with a forepaw to wipe at them.

"I'm sorry," he muttered in a tight voice. "I'm so sorry, Cynder."

She silenced him immediately, raising her head and staring him firmly in the eyes.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she told him. "I'm just so glad you're safe."

She leaned into him again with another heavy sigh, but this time when she tightened her hold Spyro winced as she brushed his injured wing. He couldn't contain the sharp grunt that escaped his jaws, his whole body going rigid. Cynder immediately pulled away, concern filling her expression.

"Spyro? What is it?" she asked anxiously. "Are you hurt?"

Spyro didn't answer, his jaw gritted tensely as he fought against the pulsing ache spreading outward from his wing shoulder. It was at that moment that Cynder seemed to finally notice his battered condition, including the scratches over his chest and the rest of his body, the severe, discoloured bruise that was forming over his broken rib, and the way his wing was hanging at a strange angle from his side. At this last sight her eyes widened with a look of horror.

"Spyro, your wing!" she exclaimed fearfully.

"It's not broken," he said quickly, trying to sound reassuring despite the pinched tone of his voice, guessing what it was she was afraid of. A broken wing was after all one of the most potentially devastating injuries a dragon could suffer. "Nexus just dislocated it before I could get away."

Cynder's eyes darkened with anger for a brief moment at the mention of the other purple dragon, but concern soon replaced it once more and she moved closer to inspect his wing. A pained look crossed her expression as she realized just how grim his condition truly was.

"Hasn't he done enough to you already?" she asked with a sad sigh. Then she looked up into his eyes again before nodding with her head toward the south. "Come on, let's get you back to the rest of the division. The healer there can take care of this."

Spyro nodded eagerly in agreement, the proposition of having his injuries treated sounding only too inviting. Cynder returned the nod quickly before stepping away from him.

"Alright, just hang on for one second."

Spyro watched in bewilderment as she backed a few paces away and spread her wings. A jolt of fear shot through him when she leapt into the air and beat her wings to climb above the wooded canopy, frightened that she was leaving him alone again, but when he realized that she wasn't going anywhere and was just hovering there in the sky he relaxed a touch.

"I found him!" the black dragoness shouted out over the trees, her voice echoing faintly in the valley. "He's here! I found him!"

There was no immediate reply that could be heard, but Spyro figured that whoever she was talking to had acknowledged her for she quickly hovered back down into the clearing before alighting by his side once more. Less than a minute later the sound of tiny fluttering wings could be heard approaching at a rapid pace.

"Where is he?" an unmistakable voice demanded insistently at the same time that a speck of glowing golden light appeared from over the tree line. "Where is that big purple idiot?"

Despite his situation Spyro simply couldn't help chucking at the frantic note in his brother's voice, and he said, "I hope you're not talking about me."

"Spyro!" the dragonfly exclaimed before zipping down to him. He didn't even slow down before he flew full-tilt into the purple dragon's neck, hugging him as tightly as he could manage with his tiny arms. "You scared me, man!" He then released his brother and hovered back so that he was eye to eye with the dragon. "Seriously, don't _ever_ do that again, do you hear me? If you ever let yourself be kidnapped by some psycho purple freak like that again, I will seriously _kill_ you before Nexus can! You have to stop scaring me like this!"

"I'm sorry, Sparx," Spyro replied sheepishly, though still with a faint grin. "I guess I just can't help it."

Sparx scowled at him before letting out a large huff and crossing his arms, but then his frown wavered when his eyes fell upon his brother's battered body. A look of shock quickly settled over his features.

"Man, what happened to you?" he asked anxiously. "Was this all Nexus? I've never seen anyone rough you up this badly!" Then he paused before adding, "Well, other than Cynder, that is."

"Sparx!" the black dragoness exclaimed sharply, a stricken look coming over her expression. "That's not funny!"

"Whoa, okay!" the dragonfly said hurriedly, raising his hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."

Cynder released a strained breath, her gaze falling briefly, and Spyro lifted his right wing and rested it gently over her shoulders. She looked up at him and gave a small, grateful smile before carefully leaning closer to him again, finding comfort in their reunion. Sparx, meanwhile, was still eyeing the battered state of his brother, his expression gradually turning into a dark scowl.

"Man, I swear, this Nexus guy is _really_ starting to get on my last nerve," he growled, sounding angrier than Spyro could ever remember. "He had better look out, because if I see him again he is in for it. I will take that guy out with my own two hands. Just lemme at him! I'll punch his eyes out and knock that stupid smirk right off his face!"

He emphasized his words by punching sharply at the air in front of him, and Spyro gave a brief snort of laughter again. Beside him Cynder rolled her eyes with a sigh.

The heavy thud of large dragon wings beating the air cut off any further conversation for a moment, and the group of tree looked up to see two armoured guard dragons appear over the clearing. They angled their bodies sharply downward and landed heavily in the clearing just a few steps away from the two younger dragons. The first of them, a fire dragon wearing Warfangian armour, inclined his head in a way of greeting toward Spyro.

"It's good that you've been found safely," he said in a deep, steady voice that seemed more appropriate for an earth dragon. "I know that Master Cyril has been especially worried ever since word reached him that you had disappeared. He'll be glad to know you're safe."

"Could you fly ahead and inform him that we're on our way back?" Cynder spoke up.

"Right away," the guard replied with a sharp nod of his head. Then, without any further delay he spread his broad red wings and took to the sky, streaking over the trees to the south and disappearing from sight.

"And how are we getting back?" Sparx asked once the first guard had gone, glancing toward his brother. "I mean, I could be wrong, but it doesn't really look like that wing's up to lifting _you_ up right about now."

Spyro shot his brother a semi-amused glare, but he was also concerned about this predicament. Flying was out of the question for him, but walking all the way back to the village from their current position would take hours and he didn't think he had the strength left to manage it, even with help.

"I think I might be able to offer my assistance here," the other guard, a male electricity dragon, cut in. "That is, if you would like."

The guard turned to the side and crouched as low as he possibly could to the ground, stretching out his left wing so that it didn't obstruct his back. Spyro was caught mildly by surprise by the gesture, feeling a little awkward at the prospect of being carried back to the division almost like a child, but it did seem to be the best solution available.

"Alright," he said finally, nodding his head. "Cynder, do you think you can help me out?"

"Of course," Cynder said without delay. "Come on, let's get you back to the camp."

With Cynder by his side, Spyro stepped up beside the guard dragon and paused, looking up at his back for a moment and trying to determine the best way to reach the perch that seemed so high above him in that moment. Eventually, with a great deal of help from Cynder, he was able to clamber up the guard's left hind leg and was soon stretched out between his wings, gripping the leading edge of his armour with his forepaws and trying to angle his body so that his rib didn't burn too badly. He managed to find a position that wasn't too painful, but he didn't think that he was going to enjoy this flight back anyway.

It turned out that he was right. Though the electricity dragon guard obviously made every effort to keep his flight as smooth as possible, Spyro was still jostled upon the takeoff and occasionally during the flight afterward, each bump causing a bolt of pain to tear through him. He fought through the discomfort in silence, however, finding solace in the fact that soon enough he would be back at the camp Cynder had mentioned, and after that his pain would be at an end.

Mercifully, it was only a few minutes before their destination came into view ahead. Looking up past the guard's shoulder, Spyro was able to see that along the western slope of the valley just to the south of the village cavern the division from Warfang had established a temporary encampment just beyond the edge of the main tree line where any grublins would have a much harder time sneaking up on them. Even from this distance Spyro could see multiple dragons patrolling the perimeter, mostly the earth variety who would be able to sense enemy movement in the trees to the east even if their vision would be obscured.

He tightened his grip as the dragon guard began his slow descent toward the camp, spreading his wings out wide to catch the wind and decrease his speed as much as possible. He approached the ground at barely more than a crawling pace, and as he landed he stretched out his legs as far as they would go to absorb the impact as much as possible. Still, Spyro winced and grit his fangs as a small jolt travelled up through the guard's back and rattled his ribcage. Once the guard had settled on the ground the purple dragon carefully slid down from his back, almost stumbling when he hit the ground. Thankfully Cynder was already there to catch him.

"Thank you," he said to the guard as the larger dragon straightened up and folded his wings against his flanks once more now that his passenger was no longer in their way.

"Don't mention it," the yellow dragon replied with a bow of his head. "I was glad to help."

Spyro inclined his head in reply, and with that the guard turned and departed, padding off farther into the camp.

"Come on," Cynder said a moment later, giving his shoulder a gentle tug. "Let's go find the healer."

Spyro nodded in agreement, eager to be rid of the burning ache in his flank and wing. Cynder then moved up by his right side, and Spyro gratefully rested his uninjured wing across her back for support as the pair began their slow trek through the camp. Their progress was understandably slow, and because of this Spyro had a great deal of time to survey his surroundings as they sought out the division's healer.

He was surprised by the state of most of the dragons he saw. Nearly everyone he saw was nursing bruises or gashes to some degree, and he realized that the fighting these dragons had faced must have been more intense than he had imagined it would be. It seemed as though only those with the most severe wounds were seeking treatment, however, because all around he could see dragons going about their business as normal despite discoloured blotches from bruises, or cuts that were still slowly seeping blood.

"Sheesh, isn't this a good-looking bunch?" Sparx commented dryly. "You fit right in, Spyro."

Spyro frowned up at his dragonfly brother, but Sparx didn't seem to notice, too absorbed by the sights all around them. Just at that moment the purple dragon heard a familiar call from ahead, and he looked up to see a larger red dragon hurrying toward them.

"Spyro!" Sirius gasped as he drew to a halt a few feet away from him and Cynder, a look of shock entering his eyes. "You're a mess! Was this all from Nexus?"

"Who else do you think it could be?" Sparx snorted.

The dragonfly was ignored as Sirius leaned closer to look over Spyro's condition. In this pause Spyro realized that the red dragon's left shoulder had been heavily wrapped in a makeshift bandage of leaves, tied down by creepers encircling his neck and upper foreleg. He didn't seem too bothered by the wound, but Spyro wondered how severe it must have been to require that much wrapping.

"Come on, I'll take you to the healer," Sirius said quickly, turning about. "It's not too much farther. I'm sure he can get you fixed up quickly enough."

"Thanks," Cynder said in reply, and Spyro nodded his agreement.

It turned out that Sirius's words had been true, and it only took them a couple more minutes to cross the camp to where the healer was working. It became evident when they were drawing nearer, for as they walked they could see more and more badly injured dragons stretched out on the ground on all sides, recovering from wounds that had recently been treated, or else awaiting such treatment for themselves. Some of the wounds he beheld were so gruesome Spyro was forced to avert his gaze.

Then, up ahead of them, a small sort of makeshift hut came into view. A dense cluster of short, needled trees were arrayed in a rough circle, forming natural walls, and oddly they all angled toward each other as though someone had climbed to their tops and pulled them all together, forming an enclosed space that was sheltered from the activity and noise outside. When he looked toward the ground by their roots, Spyro noticed that the earth seemed like it had been pushed upward around the outside of the ring of trees. Perhaps this was the work of an earth dragon?

Sirius led them around toward the tree hut's far end, where Spyro assumed that the entrance was, but at that moment his eyes caught sight of a pale patch amidst the general mix of colours from dragons' scales. When he looked toward the bright patch he faltered and felt his breath catch in his throat. He instantly drew to a halt, drawing a worried glance from Cynder.

Spyro felt a cold fear seeping through him as he gazed upon the dragon lying on the ground a short distance away. Flash was utterly still, lying sprawled out on his side with his eyes tightly shut, his features blank and almost lifeless. He didn't stir in the slightest. Beside him sat Faren, who looked up when she noticed Spyro and her other companions. A look of tension was on her features, and she only met the purple dragon's gaze for a short moment before she turned her attention back toward Flash.

"Don't worry," Sirius said suddenly from very near, causing Spyro to jump slightly and turn to where the red dragon now stood by his left side. "He's just unconscious. We found him lying beside a black dragon." His expression became pinched. "He was already dead. My guess is that when the grublins killed him, Flash lost it. He used a light fury, and wiped out a whole bunch of the grublins in the area, but it must have knocked him out. He hasn't woken up yet."

"So that's what that light was," Spyro muttered distantly, his mind wandering back to that moment on the plateau when he had seen the brilliant flash.

"You saw it?" Cynder asked, sounding mildly surprised.

Spyro gave a small, tense nod without turning his gaze away from his younger friend. "I probably wouldn't be here if not for it."

A grim silence fell over the group of four, and their gazes all settled on the white dragon again. Spyro could feel worry for his friend churning in his gut, but more than that he felt a profound sadness. Whoever that black dragon was that had died and caused Flash to release his fury, Spyro realized that he owed his freedom to him and it felt wrong that for him to be saved another had had to die. To him, he had always expected it to happen the other way around; that he would one day meet his end fighting for the survival of others. Fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of irony.

Eventually the small group resumed their path toward the entrance of the healer's hut, and as they passed around to the back of it Spyro was surprised to see Cyril there, waiting. Needless to say the guardian was greatly relieved to see Spyro back safely, and he wasted no time in ushering the battered purple dragon into the hut where he could be treated. As he was entering the natural structure, which was lit from within by a pile of glowing embers in one corner, Spyro noticed a mid-sized earth dragon standing over an ice dragon nearby with a nasty tear in his wing. The green dragon glanced toward him briefly, but then he was obscured by the makeshift walls of the hut.

Once inside it was fairly self explanatory what was expected of him. A simple but surprisingly comfortable-looking bed of moss and leaves had been gathered together in the middle of the space, which was more spacious than Spyro had been expecting. Slowly, the purple dragon padded over to the bed and tested it with a paw before stepping onto it and sitting down. Cyril found a seat a few feet over from the door where he could watch Spyro's treatment without being in the way. Cynder also entered, though she sat much closer to Spyro than Cyril did.

For several minutes there was no sign of any healer coming to join them, but at length Spyro heard the thud of paws against the dirt outside and looked up to see the same earth dragon that he had noticed before entering the hut. In the light of the glowing coals Spyro was surprised to see just how drained this dragon appeared, as though he had been working relentlessly for days without rest. He looked down to the dragon's paws, and he noticed that they were covered in flecks of dried blood.

"Are you the healer?" he asked after a moment had passed in silence.

"I am," the dragon replied in a slightly raspy voice, which Spyro guessed was caused by a combination of weariness and age, for this dragon looked as though he was well past his prime.

The colour of his scales, which looked like they must have once been a striking, almost emerald shade, were faded and had lost much of their luster while his wings sagged and had a mildly tattered appearance. His eyes were strong though, and when he looked at his newest patient Spyro felt as though he was looking right through him, making him feel small and more than a little vulnerable.

"Quite a mess you are," the healer commented after briefly taking in the purple dragon's state. "Not the worst I've seen tonight, mind you, but still you're going to be a bit of work."

"But you can help him, right?" Cynder said, sounding slightly nervous.

"Of course," the healer snorted, as though the question was laughable. "It's not as though his condition is life-threatening. Still, let's have a good look at you to be sure."

Spyro nodded and tried to relax as the healer strode over to him. Cynder backed away to give the larger dragon room, but she never strayed more than a few feet away from her companion. The healer paid her no mind as he set about his new task, working with deft, steady paws as he checked over every inch of Spyro's body. He took in every scratch and scrape that marked his scales, but not surprisingly he focussed most of his attention on Spyro's wing and rib.

The wing he checked first. Spyro winced and gave a tight groan as the healer gingerly gripped the limp wing in one forepaw and lifted it gently up to examine it, resting his other forepaw over the disjointed base and feeling the bone beneath. Spyro clamped his jaw shut as tightly as he could to keep from crying out as the healer examined the damage, but mercifully it only lasted a few seconds longer.

"This one isn't too serious," the green dragon announced at length. "Don't you worry; once I have it popped back in place you'll be flying in no time. Now, though, let's have a look at that side of yours..."

Spyro gave a weak gasp as the older dragon released his wing, and he tried to remain still as he shifted around to his patient's other side, gazing down with a grim expression at the dark, splotchy bruise that had grown to cover a good portion of his flank. Spyro felt a jolt of anxiety when he saw the green dragon moving a paw toward the injury, but he forced himself to remain still. Even so he winced sharply as the healer suddenly prodded the bruise, the broken bone beneath sending out a lance of pain.

"Hmm," the healer grunted after he completed his examination. "Thought so. Well, the good news is that the bone is still in place which means that it should heal well enough. It is still a very severe fracture, though. You're going to have to take a great deal of care not to aggravate this while it heals. I'm afraid this means you'll be out of action for quite some time, young dragon."

"What?" Spyro and Cynder blurted at the same time, turning agitated looks up at the healer.

"Now, just a moment," Cyril interjected, also looking alarmed by this news. "Are you saying that you aren't going to heal this wound now? Why not give him a red gem and be done with it while we're here?"

"I would, but the dragons we've sent out searching for gems have only come back with a very small supply of them, and those are being used as we speak for the most severe cases out there. Seeing as this young dragon isn't in any immediate danger from his injuries I cannot in good conscience use any of those crucial supplies, even if he is the purple dragon."

"What about the village?" Cynder asked.

"They have their own injured to tend to," the healer said immediately with an apologetic shake of his head. "And much more than us, I might add. No, it would be wrong to take from their supplies when they've been through such a great deal more than we have."

"Regardless, we cannot afford to have this young dragon out of action," Cyril said with a firm stamp of his paw, a glare on his face. "I may have been against him coming along on this mission, but that doesn't mean I can stand for him being unable to fight if the need for it arises again."

"I'm sorry, Master Cyril, but there's nothing I can do about it," the earth dragon shrugged.

"Hmph," Cyril huffed. "We'll see about that." Then he turned toward the door of the makeshift hut. "Sirius!"

"Yes, Master Cyril?" the fire dragon replied immediately, appearing in the gap in the tree trunks that served as a door.

"Go to the village and ask them if there is a possibility that they can spare any of their red gems. Tell them that it is of the highest importance."

Sirius nodded his head sharply and was off without wasting a second. Spyro could hear him taking to the air before the sound of his wing beats faded into the distance.

"I'm telling you, they have their own need for those gems," the healer said stubbornly.

"There is no harm in asking," Cyril replied gruffly.

The healer merely grunted before turning his attention back toward Spyro, who was watching the exchange with a slightly dazed feeling, feeling a bit awkward that the two elder dragons were having this debate over him. He brought his attention back to the matter at hand when the healer spoke up, however.

"Now, in the meantime, why don't we get that wing of yours fixed up?"

Spyro hesitated, feeling a bit anxious at the prospect of what he thought was coming, but nonetheless he eventually nodded his head mutely.

"Good lad. Now, this will be easier if you're lying down. Go ahead and get comfortable."

Spyro nodded again and gingerly lowered himself down onto the padded bed, taking extreme care not to put any pressure on his rib if he could avoid it. Fortunately the bed was soft enough that lying down didn't aggravate his side more than the occasional twinge, and soon enough he was settled on his stomach in a stable, relatively comfortable position.

"Good," the healer said, nodding approvingly. "Now, I won't lie to you; this won't feel very good. But it will be over before you know it. Are you ready?"

Spyro felt his throat and chest tighten with a feeling of nervousness, but he forced a nod nonetheless even though he wasn't entirely certain that he actually was ready. The healer didn't give him a chance to change his mind, however, and turned instead to Cynder.

"Could I get your assistance with this, please?"

"Me?" Cynder replied anxiously.

The green dragon nodded. "I'll need you to hold him down."

Another panicked jolt ran through the purple dragon, and he looked up at Cynder to see her staring back at him with an alarmed expression. After a moment, though, she forced a small swallow and nodded.

"Alright," she relented, and she moved around until she was standing by Spyro's right side.

The healer, meanwhile, turned away and paced over to the wall of tree trunks behind him. He paused for a moment, thoughtful, before he reached up with a forepaw and snapped a small but firm branch from one of the trees. He then broke it again so that he was left with a single, solid piece about a foot long, and with that in paw he returned to his patient and held it out to him.

"You may want to bite down on this."

That suggestion didn't make Spyro feel remotely better about what was about to happen, but he accepted the piece of wood regardless and set it between his jaws. He tried not to notice the anxious looks on both Cyril's and Cynder's expressions, and he especially tried not to notice when the healer moved closer to his left side. All the while the earth dragon was completely calm, as though this entire procedure was merely routine for him.

"Now, if you would," he said to Cynder in an even tone.

Beside Spyro, Cynder nodded hesitantly before reaching up with her forepaws and resting them on Spyro's back, one between his shoulders and one midway down his spine. Spyro cringed, dreading what was about to happen, but it was too late to back down now. He jerked when he felt the healer's paws brush his left wing and in response Cynder doubled the pressure she was exerting on his back, pinning him to the ground. A feeling of panic rose in his chest, but he tried his best to push it aside.

"Alright, now here we go," the healer dragon declared a moment later, gripping Spyro's wing with both his forepaws. "On three. Ready?"

_No_, Spyro thought, but even so he gave a single tight nod of his head.

"Okay then. One. Two—"

The word 'two' had barely left his jaws before the healer yanked sharply on Spyro's wing, jerking it outward to align it and allowing the dislocated shoulder joint to settle back into its socket. There was an audible _pop_, and Spyro's eyes snapped tightly shut as a sharp moan escaped him. His jaws clamped down so tightly on the piece of wood that he was certain that either it or the muscles in his jaw would snap. Only a second later it was over, though, and as the stabbing pain quickly died away Spyro was aware of a deep, wondrous feeling of relief.

"Very good," the healer said proudly, patting Spyro once on the shoulder with a forepaw before reaching down and extracting the piece of tree branch from the purple dragon's mouth. As it was taken away Spyro saw that there were a pair of deep gouges in the rough shape of his teeth, and unconsciously he worked his jaw to ease the tension in it. "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Though grateful that his wing was no longer in burning pain, Spyro still glared up at the larger green dragon at those words. The earth dragon gave a low chuckle before turning away.

"You can rest for a little bit while I gather some supplies to make a bandage for that rib of yours. It shouldn't take too long, and then you can go."

Then, without saying anything more, he was gone, departing through the open gap in the tree trunks.

"How are you feeling now?" Cynder asked Spyro after the healer left, removing her paws from his back and instead moving around in front of him, gazing down at him worriedly.

"Better," he replied in a weary tone. "But I'd rather not do that again."

A small hint of a smile touched the black dragoness's lips.

In the minutes that followed Spyro found that he was finally able to relax his aching body now that at least some of his pain was gone. Cynder sat down beside him on the mossy bed and gently stroked his back between his shoulders, and the comforting gesture made it all the easier for Spyro to let the tension ease out of him. Before he knew it he was drifting off into a weary slumber as his sheer exhaustion finally caught up with him.

He was roused all too quickly when the healer returned with a pair of large, flat leaves and a number of thin flexible tree roots gripped in one of his forepaws, and after that all thought of sleep was forgotten as he fought against flashes of pain while the healer worked on fashioning a rough bandage to hold his rib in position to heal. He was only halfway through his work when they were interrupted, however.

"Master Cyril," came Sirius's voice suddenly from outside the hut. A moment later the red dragon appeared outside the open entranceway. "I'm back."

"And were you successful?" the ice guardian asked quickly.

Sirius nodded, but to the surprise of everyone in the hut instead of entering he instead backed away from the door. Before Spyro or anyone else could wonder why this was, however, the reason became apparent when a large earth dragon appeared through the entranceway. In one forepaw he was clutching a piece of red spirit gem. It wasn't the gem that caught Spyro by surprise when he saw him, however.

"I was told you had urgent need of this?" the chief elder of the village asked, gazing questioningly at Cyril and holding out the gem piece.

Cyril said nothing, instead turning his head toward Spyro. The elder followed his gaze, but as soon as his eyes settled on the purple dragon lying atop the bed of moss and leaves a look of shock came over his features, and he froze in place as though turned to stone. For several long seconds there was only silence as the two dragons stared at each other, the elder appearing utterly stunned. Spyro, meanwhile, wasn't sure what he should think. Confused feelings were swirling about in his head, but one that did manage to rise above the jumbled sensations was a feeling close to bitterness, and his expression turned into a tense glare.

"You," the elder dragon muttered finally, still frozen in place.

"You know this young dragon already, I take it?" Cyril said, somewhat uncertainly as it seemed he tried to make sense of what was happening.

The elder nodded his head slowly, his gaze never leaving the purple dragon, but at that moment Spyro faltered when he thought he caught sight of a pained look that flashed through the large earth dragon's eyes.

"He's one of the elders that...questioned me," Spyro said grimly after a brief pause.

The elder winced as though he had been struck. At the same time Spyro heard a sharp gasp and looked to see that Cynder was gazing up at the elder with a startled expression. Almost immediately, however, her eyes narrowed into a glare.

"You're one of the dragons that tortured him?" she asked in a quiet voice, and there was unmistakeable venom in her tone.

"Torture?" the healer repeated, sounding alarmed.

The elder winced again and lowered his gaze shamefully to the ground, letting out a tense sigh.

"I had no active part in it, but I was still aware that it was occurring," he admitted at length. "I suppose that makes me equally guilty."

"How could you allow something like that to happen?" Cynder demanded, her voice rising as her anger mounted.

"I could say that we were only doing what we thought was necessary for the protection of our village, but that doesn't justify anything," the elder sighed. He looked up at Spyro again, and in his eyes Spyro saw a look of shame so deep he felt his own bitterness waver for a moment. "We committed a terrible error in what we did to you, and I only hope that you can one day forgive us."

Spyro said nothing in reply, feeling strangely numb as he gazed back at the larger dragon. It was as though after the battle with Nexus all the anger that he had been holding against others had lost its power. All he wanted then was to just forget the pain that had plagued him for seemingly so long, but even so it was a difficult thing to achieve.

The eyes of Cyril and the healer were on him, expectant, but Spyro noticed that Cyril was periodically casting accusing glares at the elder dragon as well, a distasteful scowl on his features. The elder, meanwhile, was still staring straight at him, looking as though he wanted to hope for a peaceful resolution but wasn't sure he could. Finally, Spyro let out a tense sigh and looked away.

"I just want to forget about it," he said.

The elder looked disappointed for a second, but then he quickly nodded his head.

"I understand. Perhaps just putting this all behind us and not looking back is the best thing." Then he turned his gaze on the other earth dragon in the room and held out the piece of spirit gem. "I hope this will help. Now, I must be getting back to my village, but I wish you a speedy recovery, young dragon. And again, I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am."

Again Spyro didn't reply, so the elder simply turned about and departed the healer's hut. For a long moment afterward there was only silence, everyone caught in a mild state of shock at what had just transpired before them. Everyone except Cynder, that is, who was staring through the doorway after the elder's depart with a look of absolute hatred in her eyes, her body almost trembling from anger.

"It's disgusting," she muttered darkly. "After doing something so horrible to you, he just brushes it off and moves on without any consequences?"

"Cynder..." Spyro sighed wearily.

The pained sound of his voice seemed to snap her back to her senses, and all at once the anger in her expression melted away to be replaced by one of concern as she looked down at him.

"I'm sorry. It's just...after seeing so much of that sort of thing, and what it does to a dragon..." She trailed off, her expression becoming pinched. "It just makes me sick to think about someone doing something like that now."

"Indeed," Cyril grunted stiffly. "But none of us are guiltless in this unfortunate business. Perhaps, like him, we should all just try and move on instead of dwelling upon our mistakes." Then he looked over at the healer, who was standing off to the side of the room holding the gem fragment and looking quite unsure of himself. "Well, get on with it, then. I think this young one has been through enough without us prolonging his discomfort."

As if snapped out of a daze, the healer quickly nodded and padded up to Spyro's side. Before long the piece of gem had been gently pressed up against his fractured rib and Spyro sighed with relief as he felt its warming energy seeping into his body, slowly mending the breaks in his bone. By the time all of the energy of the gem had been used up his rib was healed, his wing had been returned nearly to its previous strength, and the worst of the gashes along his body had been at least partially sealed over.

"There, I'm sure that feels better," the healer declared as he placed the now-drained crystal off to the side, sounding pleased of his work. "Keep in mind, though, that there wasn't enough energy in that one piece of gem to completely heal the injuries you sustained. Your rib still needs time to strengthen, and it would be best to give that wing a bit longer to rest as well before using it."

Spyro nodded without hesitation. "That sounds like a good idea. Thank you."

"Not at all," the earth dragon chuckled. "It was my pleasure. That being said, I still think it would be for the best if you didn't have to come back to me in such a state again, hmm?"

Spyro allowed a small smirk to flash across his muzzle before giving another nod. Satisfied, the healer stepped aside to allow him to pass, and Spyro rose from the bedding and moved for the door, smiling when he was able to move without discomfort. Cynder followed behind him and soon the pair were back out in the open, Cyril pausing for just long enough to give his thanks to the healer before following them outside. After a quick farewell, the ice guardian moved off to tend to other matters, leaving Spyro and Cynder standing alone.

As soon as the ice dragon had gone, Spyro heard a call on his left and looked to see Sparx rushing toward him.

"So?" the dragonfly asked expectantly. "Everything good?"

Spyro nodded. "All fixed up."

"Glad to hear it," Sirius said, moving up beside Sparx as the dragonfly gave a relieved sigh. "Because you really did give us all a good scare."

"Sorry," Spyro said sheepishly. "To be fair, though, I think I was still the one that got the biggest scare in all this."

The expressions of his companions all darkened with tension, and Spyro himself winced as his mind again flashed back to the sight of that giant portal swirling above him, ready to swallow him up. He shuddered, hoping to never have to see such a thing again.

"What did happen after Nexus grabbed you?" Cynder asked quietly.

Spyro looked over to his side to see the black dragoness gazing back at him with a wary, concerned look in her eyes. Sparx and Sirius had likewise gone into grim silence, waiting. At length, though, Spyro only offered a sigh.

"Can we not talk about it right now?" he asked. "I would really like to get some rest."

Though they appeared disappointed by his answer, none of his companions argued. Cynder nodded her head quickly before pulling lightly on his shoulder.

"Come on," she said. "I'm sure we can find an open space for you somewhere."

Spyro was only too happy to agree, feeling as though he might simply collapse from exhaustion at any moment, and though his wounds had mostly been healed Cynder had to provide support for him once more as they walked to keep him from toppling over. They left Sirius behind as they moved off through the ranks of wounded lying out on the open earth, while Sparx followed silently after them. Before long they had left the rows of more seriously injured behind them, the sounds of their moans and growls of pain fading into the distance, and only a few minutes later they located a clear patch of soft ground that was partially sheltered by a short, gnarled tree.

"How does this look?" Cynder asked as they approached the spot.

"Honestly? Anywhere looks good to me right about now," Spyro replied with a weak chuckle.

Cynder gave a small smirk. "Alright. Here it is, then. Come on."

She pulled him the last few metres to the patch of grassy earth and stopped once they were beneath the cover of the tree's branches. Once they stopped and she removed his wing from her shoulders Spyro practically dropped like a stone to the earth, giving a tired sigh as he felt himself sinking into the long grass, his entire body slowly relaxing as he gave in to his exhaustion.

"Looks like he's back to normal," Sparx commented dryly. "I haven't seen him drop that quickly since we left the swamp."

Cynder gave the dragonfly an amused smirk before turning her gaze back down toward her purple companion. "Would you like to be left alone to rest?"

"What?" Spyro blurted, jerking his head to look up at the dragoness with a startled expression. Cynder's amused grin grew wider at the sight of his reaction, and immediately Spyro felt his face burning from embarrassment.

"Aw, is the big purple dragon scared of being all alone?" Sparx laughed, earning a glare from his brother.

Cynder also turned a glare toward the dragonfly, though there was still a glint of amusement in her eyes.

"And how would you feel if you suddenly got yanked through a portal to Ancestors-know-where by a crazed purple dragon?" she asked.

"Uh..." Sparx said slowly, the wry smirk on his face gradually fading. "Okay, point taken."

Cynder gave a smug chuckle before shaking her head and turning her back to the dragonfly. Then, after only a brief hesitation, she moved up by Spyro's left side and slowly lay down on her stomach in the grass, stretching out a wing and resting it over him. Spyro gave a contented sigh as a feeling of warmth and security washed over him, and he closed his eyes and allowed his head to sink into the grass again.

"Really?" he heard Sparx grumble from just above them. "You two are back to this already? Can't a guy get a break before...Oh, what's the use? Make some room, Darkness."

Cynder snorted, but she did relent to shifting her wing slightly. Once space was available Sparx fluttered down and came to rest on his brother's shoulder, stretching out with an emphatic sigh and crossing his arms behind his head.

A smile tugged at the corner of Spyro's mouth, and even despite the frighteningly close call he had experienced only a couple of hours before he found himself wonderfully at peace in that moment. With Cynder and Sparx with him again, it was only moments before he found himself drifting off into a realm of slumber...

***.*.***

_When he opened his eyes, he wasn't in the valley where he had been lying before going to sleep. The air was still cold, as it had been before, but unlike the mild chill of the mountains this was different. This was more like the chill of death, piercing and inescapable. As he looked upon the dark cave he found himself in, Spyro shivered all along the length of his body._

"_Where am I?" he wondered aloud in a nervous voice, his eyes taking in the jagged rock walls that surrounded him, illuminated only by the dim, sickly glow of some form of dark crystals, the sight of which sent a chill through his spine._

_He suddenly went rigid when an alarmingly familiar sensation began pressing at the base of his skull, and though he struggled with all his might he found that it was impossible to shake its grip on him. For a reason he couldn't understand, though, the contact felt somehow sharper and more distinct than it had before. Instead of a flat, stabbing pain he felt as though there was a distinct, almost intelligent shape to it._

"_Had events played out differently, this is a place you would know well."_

_Spyro faltered with a weak gasp, his eyes going wide when he heard that voice. It was the voice he had heard in his dreams, just as horrible and frightening as it had been before, but this time it sounded as though it was coming from directly behind him and all at once he received the impression that someone was standing very close, looking down on him. He tried to turn his head to look, but for some reason he found this to be impossible._

"_What...what do you mean?" Spyro gasped fearfully, finding it difficult to speak past the pressure on his mind which caused him to wince and groan almost constantly._

"_That is a question that will be answered in due time," the chilling voice replied calmly._

_Spyro shuddered as the grip on his mind tightened, feeling like it was squeezing the air out of him, but a moment later he managed to force out, "And...who are you?"_

_This time a bone-chilling chuckle answered him, and Spyro shuddered again as fear coursed through him at the sound._

"_Again, you will know that soon enough." The voice paused, but then in an almost amused-sounding tone that masked an edge of frustration, it continued, "You are certainly a difficult dragon to communicate with, Spyro. Never in my many, many years have I had this much trouble establishing a connection, and even now it is tenuous, threatening to break at any moment. You have extraordinary resilience, young one."_

_Spyro said nothing, struggling through the haze of pain and pressure over his mind to comprehend what he was hearing. Connection? What did that mean?_

"_But you should know that your resistance is futile," the voice continued. "None can stand against me, and no one, not even you, can match my might."_

_Even as the voice spoke Spyro could feel the pressure on his mind intensifying, cold fingers working their way deeper into his consciousness. He fought, but now that the presence had found purchase in his mind he couldn't dislodge it. An oddly disconnected feeling overcame him, as though he was no longer experiencing reality._

"_What...do you want with me?" he forced out through the haze obscuring his thoughts._

_The voice chuckled again. "At this moment, it is more about what you want. Tell me, do you still want revenge on Nexus for what he has done to you?"_

_Spyro faltered at the mention of the other purple dragon, and for a brief moment he saw images flash through his mind of the battle that had occurred between them. But again the memories felt disjoint, as though they were things that had happened to someone else. Why did he feel this way?_

"_I...I'm not sure," Spyro muttered dazedly._

"_Oh, come now. Surely it can't be that hard of a question to answer. Do you want Nexus to pay for the harm he has caused you?"_

_Spyro paused, feeling confused, but eventually he said, "I guess so..." Then a dull, almost depressed feeling came over him and his head sagged slightly. "But I'm not strong enough to beat him."_

_The terrible voice laughed again. "Now, you and I both know that's not true."_

_Spyro suddenly noticed a light out of the corner of his vision, one that he hadn't seen before, and with slow, heavy movements he turned his head toward it. What he saw was a wide, raised ring of stone on the floor in the middle of the cave in which he was standing. Within it was a glowing, misty substance that he couldn't identify, but upon closer inspecting he realized that it was reflective. Though he didn't know why, he began padding sluggishly toward it until he was standing at its rim._

_He looked down into the ring, and in it he saw his reflection. It wasn't what he expected to see, however. Instead of his bright, purple eyes gazing back at him, he saw only empty, glowing eyes of white with no pupil or iris discernible within them. His scales had become enshrouded in darkness, turning them almost black. The sight should have frightened him, but oddly he felt nothing but numbness._

"_You know what you truly are," the voice said quietly, though within the absolute silence of the cave it seemed to echo endlessly. "You have a power unlike that of any dragon in the world. All you have to do is use it, and nothing can stop you. Not even one of your own kind."_

_Spyro listened to those words as he stared at himself in the ring, but they seemed to be having strangely little effect on him. He felt nothing, the pressure in his mind obliterating all thought and feeling. Still, he couldn't shake those words as they echoed within his consciousness._

"_You have been living a lie all your life, Spyro, but even so, deep inside I think you know what your purpose is. When one purple dragon forsook his calling and turned against all but himself, you eliminated the threat. Now another purple dragon has done the same, failing in his duty. But you can amend that."_

"_But I don't know where he is," Spyro mumbled emptily, as though lost in a trance._

_The voice chuckled again, and as it did the substance within the ring began to shift, the mist receding until it left a flat, glossy surface like some sort of liquid. An image began forming within it, dull and unrecognizable at first but slowly gaining clarity._

"_You have the senses to guide you to him," the voice rumbled slowly. "You must only open yourself to them, and your natural connection to him will lead you as though he was right in front of you. When the time comes, you will know what path to follow."_

_The image within the ring finished forming, and as he gazed blankly down upon it Spyro realized that it was a place he knew. Within the ring he could see a jagged, crumbled mountain, with an opening like a broken set of jaws opening up into the sky._

_A new feeling entered him, one of unwavering certainty. Nexus was there. That meant that he had to go there too. Nexus had to be stopped, after all. There was simply no other choice, not other solution._

_He was a threat, and threats couldn't be allowed to persist._

_Behind him, the chilling voice laughed._

***.*.***

"Spyro? Spyro, wake up."

Spyro jolted at the sudden call and blearily opened his eyes. For a moment as he gazed out at his surroundings he didn't recognize them, and for a long time he was overcome by a strange and unsettling feeling of disorientation. At length, though, he realized that he was lying at the edge of the valley just to the south of the mountain village, which had only just become bathed in the soft glow of the rising sun.

"Spyro?" the voice came again, and he jumped again before turning his head to his left to see Cynder gazing back at him, a look of concern on her features.

"Wh...what?" the purple dragon muttered dazedly, still feeling very confused. "What is it? Cynder? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You were mumbling and twitching in your sleep," the black dragoness replied, worry in her voice. "You looked almost like you were in pain. I tried to wake you up, but I couldn't. Were you having a dream?"

For several seconds Spyro just stared blankly back at her, his mind feeling oddly clouded as her words slowly sank in. He turned his gaze away into the distance, puzzled. Had he been dreaming? He found that he couldn't remember. His mind felt strangely blank, as though a memory should have been there but wasn't.

"I...I don't know," he said finally, still gazing off over the valley.

The look of concern in Cynder's eyes grew, but she said nothing more. Instead, slowly, she retracted the wing that had been resting over Spyro's side during the night—in the process exposing Sparx, who had somehow ended up beneath the wing while they slept, nestled under its warmth. As soon as the chilled morning air hit him, the dragonfly gave a loud groan.

"Uuughh," he moaned. "What? What's the big idea? Is it time to get up already?"

"I guess so," Spyro replied with a light snort of laughter, his feelings of uncertainty and confusion slowly fading away to be replaced by amusement. Then he looked around at the division's temporary encampment and was puzzled when he realized that there was surprisingly little activity. He turned to Cynder. "I don't suppose you know what's happening today? What are we doing now that the grublins and Nexus got away?"

"Actually, I do know," the black dragoness replied with a nod. "I heard Cyril talking with Pyruth and Raulk just before we set out searching for you. We're taking the day to rest so that the injured can recover enough to fly, and tomorrow we're heading back to Warfang with the dragons from the village."

"We're taking them all with us?"

Cynder nodded. "After being attacked twice by grublins and having their homes destroyed, they seem to agree that this isn't a safe place for them anymore. That's another reason for us to stay here today; to give them time to gather whatever they can from their homes before they leave. It doesn't seem like they're planning on coming back."

Spyro grunted and nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting to the north toward the entrance to the underground village that was barely visible from his position. At that moment, though, he noticed a spot of white out of the corner of his vision and turned. As soon as his eyes fell on the dragon approaching he felt surprise explode through him.

"Flash!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet and ignoring the startled cry from Sparx as he was thrown from his brother's back. "You're awake! It's good to see you're alright."

"You too," the light dragon replied, giving a small smile that Spyro promptly returned.

"How are you feeling?" Faren, who was next to Flash, asked, glancing quickly over him to judge his condition.

"Better," Spyro replied, glancing quickly at Cynder and Sparx and giving a smile at the corner of his mouth before looking back at the two newcomers. "A lot better."

Faren looked relieved. "Good."

"And how about you?" Cynder asked Flash, rising to her feet now as well. "How are you holding up after yesterday?"

Flash was silent for a moment, his expression darkening a touch before he gave a small, evasive shrug.

"Alright, I guess," he said. "A bit shaken up, but I'll be okay."

Cynder nodded her head in understanding. "Well, that's good to hear. You should be proud of yourself, you know. You handled yourself really well out there."

Flash looked slightly surprised by this praise from the black dragoness, and he fixed her with a studying gaze for a few seconds as though he wasn't sure he should believe her. Shortly afterward he gave another small smile, though, this one looking more at ease.

"Thanks."

The group of five spent another short while talking, and when they were finished with that they all agreed to go for a quick hunt, all of them feeling famished after the battle from the previous afternoon. From that point on the day passed relatively uneventfully. Mercifully there were no signs of grublins anywhere; they all seemed to have fled the area as soon as Nexus had disappeared. Though no one dared to relax entirely, they still took the opportunity to enjoy a short peace before the dragons would set out the following morning.

Still, for a reason Spyro couldn't grasp, he was aware of an uneasy, restless feeling deep within him as though there was something he was supposed to be doing, and he found that his gaze was constantly getting drawn toward the horizon to the south-west.

Later in the afternoon Spyro and his companions ran across Cyril and Sirius speaking with the earth and fire dragon elders from the village, discussing plans for their departure for Warfang and how the trip would be organized. Seeing them had caused an immediate spike in tension, but thankfully the elders departed shortly after Spyro and his friends arrived. After that Cyril had taken the opportunity to ask Spyro what exactly had transpired after he had been abducted by Nexus. Clearly the others had all been waiting for a chance to hear the story as well, for as soon as the guardian made the request everything went silent.

Reluctantly, Spyro began divulging all the details he could recall about the battle with the other purple dragon, including everything that he had said to him during that time. The other dragons all listened in grim silence, looking slightly uncomfortable hearing about the vicious fighting that Spyro had endured and the fear that he had experienced. When he was finished he fell silent and allowed his gaze to drop toward the ground, brooding on the unpleasant memories.

"I must say, this is a slightly concerning development," Cyril said thoughtfully after a moment had passed in silence. "You say that the entire fight was that one-sided?"

Grimly, Spyro nodded his head. Cyril gave a tense grunt.

"And he wasn't even fighting to kill. It seems that it will be quite a difficult feat to bring this dragon down. We will have to take great precautions to make sure that he can't separate us so easily again. We will have to work together to defeat him."

"I find it strange that he actually sounded remorseful when he was speaking to you, though," Sirius cut in, fixing Spyro with a curious look. "After what we had already seen of him it looked like he had no trouble with what he was doing, but if he really is only doing this because he feels like he has to, maybe we could use that."

"What are you suggesting?" Cynder asked, somewhat icily. "Offer him asylum? Give him shelter and act as if nothing happened?"

"Oh, yeah, _that's_ a good idea," Sparx snorted, obviously of the same mind as Cynder for once. "We could be like, 'Hey, don't worry about the fact that you practically got your own brother killed for something he never did. Come on in and join the party! Plenty of room!' Yeah, right. I say he doesn't deserve any chances."

Cynder nodded her head firmly in agreement.

Cyril gave them a stern look. "Now, young ones, you shouldn't be so quick to deny a second chance to another. You especially should understand, Cynder."

The black dragoness faltered with a startled look, but quickly a bitter frown crossed her expression and she looked away with a low huff.

"However, that is not important for the time being," the ice dragon continued. "Nexus remains a threat, and so long as he is still at large our concern should be solely on removing that threat by any means necessary. Does anyone disagree?"

Only silence answered him. After a short pause he nodded.

"Very well. Now, Spyro, what more can you tell us about the way he fought?"

All eyes turned to the purple dragon again. Spyro didn't notice, however, for in the few minutes that had passed since he had last spoken his gaze had drifted off to the south-western horizon once again, his thoughts distant. He hadn't heard the last few lines of the conversation, and was entirely unaware that he had been called on again until Cynder nudged him with a folded wing. Startled, he turned a curious look at her.

"What?" he asked.

"Are you okay?" she asked him, looking closely at him.

Spyro frowned, confused, and distractedly he muttered, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just..."

He trailed off gradually when he felt his attention slip again, and though he didn't know why his gaze was drawn to the horizon once more as though some force was beckoning to him there and he was unable to resist it.

"Spyro!"

Spyro jumped again, more forcibly this time when Cynder called his name insistently. He snapped his gaze around and found her staring intently straight at him. The intensity in her eyes was daunting, and he shuffled his forepaws uncomfortably.

"What's going on with you?" she asked him. "You've been acting really distracted all day. Is something wrong?"

"I...I don't know," Spyro replied hesitantly, still feeling a bit confused. "I just...I don't know, I just have this weird feeling. I don't know how to describe it, but I can't shake it off."

His companions exchanged puzzled, slightly concerned glances, and when he thought about it Spyro realized that he was also a bit unsettled by this feeling he was having. What was causing it? And why couldn't he get it out of his head?

"At any rate, we're getting off topic," Cyril cut in suddenly, though he was watching the young purple dragon closely as well. "Now Spyro, again, what can you tell us about Nexus's fighting style? It may be useful to know more about how he fights for when we inevitably face him again."

"Right," Spyro said, nodding sharply and forcing his mind back to the task at hand. "Right. Well, I don't really know how to describe it. Just...precise, I guess. He made it seem like the easiest thing in the world to him. He never slipped up once. I've never seen anyone fight with such patience and focus before."

"He sounds like an expert," Sirius commented.

"That's what it seemed like," Spyro agreed, nodding his head. "I don't understand how he became that skilled, but I think it's safe to say that he's had a _lot_ of training. He'll be more than a match for anyone in a single fight."

Cyril looked troubled by this news, but not entirely surprised. He gave a slow, thoughtful nod.

"I can't say that I expected any differently," he said finally. "Very well. We'll have to make sure to stay in groups, and whoever comes up against him will have to make sure to work as a team to overpower him. However, that's a matter to worry about after we get these dragons safely back to Warfang. In the meantime you young ones might as well continue resting. Tomorrow morning we depart. You should all be ready. We want to make the best time possible on our return journey."

The other dragons and Sparx were all in agreement. With a final firm nod of his head, Cyril rose to his feet signalling that their impromptu meeting was at a close. Slowly the dragons all dispersed, off to make their own preparations for their approaching departure.

As they walked off into the camp, Spyro once again felt his eyes drift toward the west.

***.*.***

The flight south through the mountains passed without any difficulties. By that time those dragons that had been injured in the fighting had recuperated enough—both naturally and with the help of red gems—that they were all able to fly with no exceptions. While they made sure not to push their pace too hard so as not to strain their remaining wounds, the formation of dragons still made surprisingly good time as they flew. A favourable tailwind through the valleys and peaks meant that the sun was only beginning its descent toward the horizon by the time Avalar came into view ahead and the mountains fell away.

At the sight of the lush green valley, all the dragons eagerly began to glide down for a respite after the relentless flying. As he touched down on the soft earth amidst the crowd Spyro gave a contented sigh, allowing his eyes to wander over the pristine valley with its natural serenity and the peaceful sounds of the winding river and the waterfalls in the distance. He didn't know what it was about the place, but the sense of peace it held was intoxicating, and it was something he realized he had missed recently.

"We'll rest here for a few minutes," Cyril declared, raising his voice so that all the gathered dragons could hear. "Then we'll continue on our way to Warfang. I know it's been a long flight already, but it will only be a few hours more before we reach the safety of the city and then we can all rest properly."

There were a number of mixed reactions from the dragons in the crowd, ranging from hushed whispers of excitement at the prospect of seeing the great dragon city to groans of weariness. No one voiced any actual opposition to the plan, however, and gradually the dragons began dispersing into the valley in search of a place to rest, or else looking for a quick meal. Most headed for the river nearby, bending their long necks down to lap up the cool, clear water greedily. Spyro and Cynder were among these dragons, and as the soothing liquid splashed down his throat Spyro felt some of his weariness fading already.

A number of minutes passed in which nothing much occurred, but then Spyro's head perked up when he heard a call from the eastern edge of the group. Curious as to what was happening he leapt into the air, followed by Cynder, Flash, Faren and Sparx, and flew over to where the guard that had called out was standing. As he landed, he looked to see Cyril already speaking to the guard, who then turned and pointed with a wing at the band of cheetahs that was approaching them. Prowlus was in the lead, and right behind him was Hunter.

"It seems like we can't go more than a few days without a swarm of you dragons invading our valley anymore," the cheetah chief commented sourly as he and his band of warriors drew to a halt a few feet away from them, a scowl on his face and his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he gazed out at the many dragons arrayed before him. "I take it your little mission was successful."

"For the most part," Cyril replied with a bob of his head. "There were more casualties than we would have liked, but such is the way of battle, I suppose. We dealt those grublins a sound blow, at the very least, and secured the survival of another village of dragons."

"Hmph," Prowlus grunted. "Well, whatever blow you dealt, it would have been more appreciated if you had finished those creatures off. We're getting tired of them roaming through our valley."

A puzzled look crossed Cyril's expression. "What's this?"

"Just last night we saw a host of grublins fleeing westward through Avalar from the mountains," Hunter said, stepping forward to address the guardian. "It looked as if there was somewhere close to a thousand of them in total. They didn't cause any trouble before they were gone, but it is still unsettling to have them venturing through our lands again."

"Heading west, you say?" Cyril asked, thoughtful. "Then perhaps they've finally given up and are fleeing back to their accursed mountain. If that's the case, perhaps we can dare to hope for a brief respite from all this dreadful fighting."

Prowlus made some kind of gruff retort, but Spyro didn't hear it. At the mention of the grublins and the Well of Souls—for it was obvious that this was the mountain Cyril was referring to—Spyro suddenly felt a strange tug at the back of his mind, as though the mention of that location had triggered something inside of him. Slowly he turned about until he was facing due west, gazing out at the peaks of the low mountains that surrounded the valley.

"Spyro?" Cynder asked when she noticed the look in his eyes. "What is it?"

"Nexus is there," he muttered.

Whatever conversation had been occurring around him suddenly ceased, and he was dimly aware of the eyes of Cyril, his companions and the guard dragons around him turning to gaze at him quizzically.

"What?" Cynder said, confused.

"Nexus," Spyro repeated. "He's at the Well of Souls."

"The creepy old mountain?" Sparx said quizzically. "You think evil purple boy is in there?"

"What makes you so certain?" Cyril asked him.

Spyro paused, unsure of how to answer that question, and at length he only gave a helpless shrug.

"I don't know. I just am. Somehow I can just feel that he's there."

Another silence descended over the group, and Spyro noticed his friends exchanging anxious glances. Did they think he was crazy? Then again, around him people seemed to take unusual developments such as this in stride, and it seemed as if this was no exception.

"Oh...kay," Sparx said slowly. "I'll bite. So what if he is there? I say we just leave him to hide in his little hole."

"No," Spyro said immediately, and he surprised himself with the edge in his voice. "We have to go after him."

"What?" Faren squeaked in surprise.

"Young dragon, our forces are already weary from travelling and fighting," Cyril pointed out. "It would be foolish to set out immediately to engage Nexus's forces again without first taking time to recover our own strength."

"Whatever time we take is time we're giving him too, though," Spyro protested firmly. "We can't afford to give him the time he needs to come up with some other way of unbalancing us. This time he's the one on the defensive. We have to take advantage of that."

This caused the elder dragon to pause thoughtfully, and all around him Spyro could see consideration on the faces of the other dragons. At that moment Cynder stepped up closer to him, though, worry clear in her eyes.

"Spyro, are you sure?" she asked anxiously. "You barely got away from him last time. You really want to go after him again so soon?"

The note of heavy concern in her voice caused his determination to waver for a second, but quickly enough it returned in force and he gave a strong nod.

"Like I told my parents before leaving Warfang, this has to end."

Again the others paused, and it looked as though despite his arguments they were still uncertain. A feeling of frustration welled up within him. Why was this such a hard decision? Didn't they agree that Nexus had to be stopped as quickly as possible? To him, it was the most imperative thing imaginable in that moment, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Nexus just _had_ to be stopped.

Nexus _must_ fall.

That thought caused a fleeting, puzzled frown to appear on his muzzle, for it felt almost foreign to him in that moment, but he was distracted from these thoughts when Hunter suddenly spoke up.

"He does raise a strong point," the cheetah said. "Nexus has already demonstrated his cunning. If we want to defeat him quickly, the best chance of doing that is to attack him before he has time to plan out a new strategy."

Cyril frowned thoughtfully, nodding his head slowly as he considered what he had heard. Finally, he gave a relenting sigh.

"Oh, alright," he grunted. "I agree, time is of the essence for us in this situation." He turned to a nearby guard wearing light scout's armour. "I want you to gather together the dragons from the mountain village and make straight for Warfang. When you get there, inform Terrador of our position and tell him that it is urgent that he and whatever forces he can muster meet us here with all haste. Quickly now, there's no time to waste!"

The guard nodded his head firmly before turning about and dashing off into the crowd, calling for the mountain village's elders. Within a few seconds he was gone, his voice fading over the general rumble of the crowd.

"Well, I suppose if you dragons are marching off to meet this other purple monster you'll be needing all the help you can get," Prowlus sighed ill-temperedly. "If it means that we can put this mess behind us and finally have some peace, then we'll provide whatever assistance we can against the grublins."

"It is appreciated," Cyril said with a grateful nod. Then he looked up at the guards around them, and at Spyro and his companions. "As for the rest of us, we had best take whatever time we can to recover our strength."

There was a general rumble of agreement and the crowd of dragons began to disperse once more, either to depart on hunting trips or to find somewhere to lie down and rest their travel-weary bodies. Spyro spotted what looked like a good place to rest atop a small hill to his left, and with his companions close behind him he began climbing. Soon enough he was seated atop the hill, looking out over the valley and the dragons milling about within it. From where they sat he and his friends had a good vantage point as the scout Cyril had selected took to the skies with the mountain village refugees following closely, leaving the chief elder and a hundred of their strongest males behind to assist in the coming battle. After that, all there was left to do was wait.

Night fell over the valley, and as the moons and stars began to make themselves visible overhead most of the dragons settled down to claim what sleep they could in the time allotted to them. Spyro, however, didn't sleep. He sat almost as still as a statue, staring off toward the western horizon, a strange feeling of urgency falling over him. Though he didn't know why, the success of this new mission felt incredibly important to him. The defeat of Nexus had become essential, and he wasn't going to allow himself to be overpowered again. Not now that he had his friends again to support him.

It was just before dawn when movement was spotted to the east, and Spyro looked back to see a massive formation of dragons and moles marching through the valley toward them. Terrador was at the head of the group, with Volteer right beside him. The purple dragon was also able to pick out Mason at the front of the column, and also Tythos amongst the ranks with the remaining members of the Eastern City Guard. All in all it was a force of several hundred strong, and for a brief moment the purple dragon found himself in a sort of state of shock at the sight.

Cyril quickly moved out to greet his fellow guardians as they approached the division, and Spyro quickly rose to his feet and made to join them. His movement roused the others from their light slumbers, and when they saw the army marching toward them they immediately jumped to their feet, surprised energy flooding through them at this new development. As they drew nearer to the new arrivals, Cyril and the other guardians were just concluding their greetings. Almost immediately Faren dashed ahead of the others, running toward where her father and Sirius were already speaking.

"Father!" the red dragoness called.

"Ah, there you are," the elder fire dragon laughed, sounding greatly relieved to see his daughter unharmed.

Spyro felt a small smile grow on his muzzle before he turned his gaze back to the guardians. As they drew up to the group of three larger dragons it seemed that their approach was finally noticed. Terrador and Volteer looked over toward them, and as soon as their eyes fell on Spyro looks of surprise lit up their expressions.

"Spyro!" the earth guardian exclaimed before letting out a massive sigh. "Thank the Ancestors you're unharmed. You had us all in a panic when you vanished from the city."

Spyro's gaze dropped guiltily to the ground, feeling terribly ashamed at causing the guardians such a scare, and he said, "I'm sorry, Terrador."

"As well you should be," the large earth dragon admonished, his expression and tone becoming stern, and it was clear that he was quite upset about what the purple dragon had done. "When you disappeared, we all feared that Nexus had managed to sneak into the city and take you! It's a good thing you at least had the sense to tell your parents where you were going. If they hadn't told us where you had gone we probably would have dispatched every dragon available to every corner of the realms looking for you! I expected better of you than to do something so rash."

Spyro's feeling of guilt only deepened, and he found it impossible to hold the guardian's gaze after that. A tense silence fell over the group, no one quite knowing what to say in the face of the normally calm and collected dragon's anger. Finally, the uncomfortable quiet was broken by Sparx.

"Hey, I tried to talk him out of it."

Spyro couldn't help the slight smirk that pulled at one corner of his lips, but he still didn't raise his eyes. Just at that moment Cyril stepped in on his behalf.

"No harm done, Terrador," he said with a sigh. "I already administered a thorough telling off for his actions as it is, and I'm quite confident that this young dragon has subsequently learned his lesson. What's done is done."

Terrador gave a tight grunt as his only reply, his stern scowl still fixed on the young purple dragon standing before him, but at length his expression began to soften and he let out another tired-sounding sigh.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," he said finally. "I certainly hope you won't try anything of the sort again, young dragon. Not at a time such as this."

Spyro nodded his head obediently.

Just at that moment a frown crossed Cyril's features as he gazed over the group that Terrador and Volteer had brought with them from the city.

"I don't see any of the dragons from the northern city," he said, turning a questioning look toward his associates.

Terrador's expression darkened, and in a low growl he replied, "They aren't coming."

"They aren't?" Cynder asked, sounding surprised. "Why not?"

"Shortly after Spyro made his covert departure from Warfang, the elders of the northern city declared that they were withdrawing their support from all matters and operations that we the guardians were overseeing during this time of crisis and uncertainty," Volteer replied, sounding quite displeased. "They announced that, in light of our complete, total, utter lack of any decisive actions taken against Spyro in response to the casualties sustained by their guard forces during 'his' attack against our city and our kind, they could no longer stand to throw in their support and their faith with us. They departed for their city two days ago, and have made it entirely, abundantly, unquestionably clear that we should not call on them for assistance again until suitable punitive and restorative actions have taken place."

"So they're just going to desert the rest of us while we try to stop a purple dragon from spreading chaos and fear like Malefor?" Sirius said incredulously.

"It would seem so," Terrador rumbled distastefully. "We must hope that our strength without them, combined with the help of our newly-rescued comrades will be enough to win this coming battle. We cannot afford to allow another war to start like the one with Malefor."

"Of course, of course," Cyril nodded. "Shall we make our departure then? The less time we give Nexus to prepare, the better, I say."

"Right you are," Terrador nodded. "Let's rouse the rest of your troops, and we'll be off as soon as we can."

Everyone was in agreement.

Less than an hour later the combined army of dragons, moles, and cheetahs had left the western edge of the Valley of Avalar behind them, and as one unified force they marched through the hills and forests that would take them past Twilight Falls and eventually to the catacombs of the Well of Souls, where at that moment Nexus and the remnants of his army of grublins were waiting for them.

As they marched, Spyro felt a grim determination entering him. Gone was the anger that had fuelled his journey when he had fled Warfang in pursuit of the division. Now he was filled only with a hard focus on the task that lay before him. Just as he had done with Malefor, he would remove the threat that Nexus posed before he could be given another chance to tear away the peace they had struggled for for so long. He would not allow another of his kind to destroy what he held of value anymore.

This time, he would not fail.

* * *

><p><strong>Ooooooh...Has Spyro given in to his 'master'? What's going to happen next? The anticipation! Gah!<strong>

**More filler again, I know. These last couple of chapters seem to be settling into a pattern. Filler, ACTION, filler...**

**But then you know what that means for next chapter... X)**

**Anyway, until next time...**


	33. Chapter 32

**SO EXCITED! The climax is HERE!**

**:D**

**This chapter took longer to write than expected. Stupid motivation deserted me halfway through, and for the latter half of last week I didn't write a single word AT ALL. But it's back, and now this chapter is done! Hooray!**

**Anyway, hope you like it. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 32:<span>_

_Why am I still alive?_

For what must have been the hundredth time the simple question echoed within Nexus's mind. As he sat in the large, empty stone chamber that he had used as his planning room before beginning his work in Warfang he was left with only his thoughts to accompany him, and this thought refused to be budged from his mind. It left him feeling terribly confused and even a bit paranoid.

His master had told him in no uncertain terms after his failure at the dragon city that if he failed again to bring Spyro back to the Dark Realms he would be given no other chances. After Spyro had escaped him in the mountains he had fully expected to be killed right then and there. Fleeing the scene had been an instinctual act of self-preservation, but it had been utterly futile and he had known it full well at the time. There was nowhere he could go that he could escape his master's reach. In that moment he had known without a shadow of a doubt that he was a dead dragon.

And yet...

He almost wished that his master would just kill him there and be done with it. The uncertainty and fear that plagued him was threatening to drive him out of his mind. He couldn't recall a time that he had felt this on edge, and even now as he sat alone in the dark, cavernous space he could feel light tremors of tension and restlessness running through his body. He hated this feeling with a passion, and at times it felt almost as though it was going to be the death of him.

Maybe that was what his master had in mind, he thought with a bitter smirk.

A soft scraping suddenly sounded from just behind him, and in a motion that was barely more than a blur Nexus leapt to his feet and whirled around to face whatever intruder had snuck up on him. He had already cracked his jaws open wide and convexity was crackling between them when he finally realized that it was only a grublin standing there, cowering back with a look of pure terror on its face as it gazed upon the purple dragon that was a split second away from ending its life. Slowly Nexus forced his body to relax, shutting his jaws as he allowed the violet energy to dissipate and trying to calm the racing of his heart.

_Ancestors, I'm jumpy_, he thought distastefully. _I hate being jumpy._

"What is it?" he growled at the grublin.

The squat, gnarled creature required several tries to find its voice after the fright it had just received, and even when it was able to speak it was with a tight, squeaky tone to its already-annoying voice. Nexus listened with a scowl on his features as it gave his report, but as the grublin continued to speak the frown deepened with a feeling of uneasiness.

Apparently, one of his advance scouts had spotted the guardians and Spyro heading toward the Well of Souls, along with a rather large army of moles, dragons, and cheetahs. They were now less than an hour's march from Twilight Falls, and after that it would only be a short while before they reached the mountain. This was _not_ what he needed right now.

"Well, I figured they would come," he sighed tensely. "Have the defences been alerted?"

'Not yet,' was the grublin's warbling reply.

Nexus paused briefly at that answer, and he cocked a brow ridge with a displeased look about his features. "Well, do you think that maybe that's a good idea?"

The grublin looked as though it was about to answer, but Nexus didn't give it the chance.

"Go!" he shouted, causing the creature to jump with a panicked squeal. "Alert everyone! I want every grublin in this mountain in their positions and ready to repel the guardians' attack! Now! Get the defences ready! _Move_!"

The grublin didn't waste even a second before spinning about and sprinting as fast as its stubby legs would carry it toward the nearest exit out of the chamber. As soon as it was out of sight Nexus let out a flustered huff and began pacing restlessly back and forth, his talons scraping rhythmically against the rough stone floor of the chamber.

He felt like a wild animal, cornered by a pack of predators and with nowhere left to run. His master had surely deemed him as a failure and as a waste of life by this point, and the guardians viewed him as a dangerous threat that had to be eliminated before he could turn into another Malefor. His only allies at this point were the grublins, and their numbers had been dramatically thinned out by recent battles.

Upon reaching the shelter of the Well of Souls he had performed a rough count, and in total he had well short of four thousand of the dark creatures left amongst his ranks, half of which being the reserves he had left out from his attacks against the dragon settlements and more than two thirds of those being the weak, standard land-bound and airborne varieties that could only take down a foe regularly when they were in groups of four at the very least. If every dragon and mole guard came to attack his last stronghold along with their new allies—as he was certain they would—then he scarcely outnumbered them two to one.

On an even field of battle those numbers would have been encouraging, but against dragons it was nowhere near enough, and much less with Spyro and Cynder on the front lines. It would take a swarm of grublins of all varieties to have any chance of bringing Spyro down, being a purple dragon as he was, and Cynder could practically be considered a purple dragon in her own right thanks to the powers Malefor had granted her.

He did _not_ like his chances, but fighting was his only option.

_The last stand of Nexus the Purple Dragon_, Nexus thought ruefully before giving a half-hearted snort. _I never thought it would end up like this._

Filled with anxious energy, Nexus felt as though he couldn't bear to stay in one place any longer. He turned toward the nearest exit of the huge chamber and paced hurriedly through the darkened stone corridors, descending through winding tunnels and passageways until he emerged in a massive, cavernous space. He padded over to a low, crumbled railing that lined the edge of a ruined brick walkway along one wall and gazed out over the cavern.

The irregular natural chamber was like a bottomless abyss, gradually widening as it descended through the heart of the mountain. All along its edges ruined walkways and arched entrances into other chambers lined the walls, illuminated by the flickering orange glow of torches. This was what remained of Malefor's mountain stronghold, once the hub of operations for his fledgling ape army generations past, and while it had crumbled to but a shadow of its former glory it was still one of the most defendable positions in the Dragon Realms. Still, he knew that it wasn't going to be enough to save him.

Now as he sat watching what remained of his army preparing for the impending assault, Nexus felt strangely numb. It seemed a certainty that, one way or another, this day would be the end of this struggle of his. Like a storm rolling across a plain straight for him, the final battle would be unavoidable. Spyro would come for him, and he could just feel deep within him that it would be far more difficult to defeat him this time.

_Well, brother, _he thought grimly. _Here I am. If this is what you want, then let's see if you have what it takes to come out on top._

_Because if I know one thing for sure, it's that when this fight comes, I won't be the one backing down._

***.*.***

Like a broken pillar stabbing up into the clouded sky, the Well of Souls loomed before them. The air here felt unnaturally cold, as though the evil and malice that permeated that place had sucked all warmth from the land. A faint dusting of snow had begun falling from the thick clouds above them, blanketing the land in deceptive silence, but even with the white flakes drifting through the air the mountain stood out strikingly against the low peaks in the background. The land about them seemed dead and barren, and a gloomy atmosphere hung over the region, as if foreshadowing the death that would soon fill these hills.

Spyro felt a foreboding chill run through his spine as he gazed up at the mountain ahead, appearing totally still. He didn't dare trust the silence, however; there wasn't a single doubt in his mind that Nexus and his grublins were holed up in that mountain at that very moment, just waiting to spring out at them.

"I can't believe we're back here," Sparx moaned as he hovered, shivering, in the air between Spyro and Cynder, staring up at the mountain with a helpless look. "Last time we came, we didn't leave for three years! And now we're actually going to go in there again?"

"Yep," Spyro replied simply, nodding his head and not taking his eyes off their target.

"I really don't like it here," Faren said quietly from just behind the purple dragon, and Spyro glanced back briefly to see her standing close to Flash's side, staring up at the Well of Souls with a fearful expression. "This place feels evil."

"That's because it is," Cynder replied in a slightly subdued tone, as though the heaviness in the air had also settled over her spirit. "We're going to have to keep our wits about us once we go in there."

"Why?" Sparx whined. "Why always with the doom and the gloom? Can't the bad guys just once pick a nice, happy little meadow for their base with lots of sunshine and nice flowers and streams and stuff?"

"Maybe you should ask Nexus that when we get in there," Flash commented dryly.

"Come on, guys," Spyro cut in sternly. "Let's focus here. We're going to need to be sharp if we're going to take Nexus down."

A tense silence fell over their group, and for several minutes after that nothing was said as they all looked out at the mountain before them that would soon be a battleground, lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, though, Spyro noticed Cynder straighten up suddenly beside him.

"There," she said, pointing with a wing down toward the base of the mountain ahead. "Look."

Spyro did, and he soon spotted what had caught the dragoness's attention. Moving swiftly and silently through the low, gnarled bushes and shrubs in the dry stretch of valley leading up to the Well of Souls, three cheetahs could be seen. Their leader was wearing an easily recognizable red cloak with the hood pulled up over his head, a bow and quiver slung over his back.

"Come on," Spyro said to his friends. "Let's go see what they found."

He quickly turned to his left and began hastily scampering down the rough, uneven slope of the stone outcropping he and his friends had been surveying the land from. Within a couple of minutes they had descended down into the crags where the army was waiting. They arrived at the forefront of the group just as the cheetahs reached the formation.

"You're back quickly, Hunter," Terrador commented as he, the other guardians and Sirius, as well as Tythos and the chief elder of the mountain village, arrived at the same time as Spyro's group. "What can you tell us about the land ahead?"

"The grublins are definitely here," the cheetah replied steadily, sounding none the worse for wear from the long trek he and his fellow scouts had just completed through the foothills. He reached up to pull down his hood, then continued, "And they know that we're here as well. We were able to spot a number of fortified entrances into the catacombs within the mountain, and all of them are guarded and sealed. The good news is that whatever defensive weaponry used to guard this stronghold has apparently fallen into disrepair over the years and therefore is inoperable, but it still will not be easy to force our way into the mountain."

"That will only be if the grublins all remain within the catacombs," Cyril pointed out. "If they leave the mountain to meet us once we begin our advance then that may give us an opportunity to penetrate their defences."

"It might," Hunter conceded, "but we'll still have to get past the grublins guarding those entrances regardless. I feel confident enough that we will be able to breach the mountain eventually, but it will be quite a battle before we can get past the grublins, I think."

"We hardly expected any differently," Terrador rumbled, squaring his shoulders and releasing a tense breath. "What else were you able to find?"

"As it turns out, our survey of the area did reveal a potential means of getting inside more quickly," Hunter declared, his eyes brightening slightly. "Mid-way up the northern face of the mountain we were able to find what appeared to be another older, crumbled entranceway that seems to have been abandoned. It isn't easy to reach by land, but once there an earth dragon should be able to get inside, and from there a small team can infiltrate into the catacombs and weaken the grublins from within."

Almost immediately Terrador's eyes shifted to Spyro upon this news, and the purple dragon looked up at him with a mildly surprised feeling before he realized what the guardian was thinking.

"Ah, of course!" Volteer said excitedly, also noticing when the earth dragon's gaze shifted. "I see what you're thinking, Terrador! While we and the rest of the army engage the grublins in a head-on assault, thereby drawing their attention and securing it on our attempts to storm the mountain from the front, Spyro and his companions can sneak in from the side and subdue Nexus while his forces are occupied, thereby stripping the grublins of their leadership and robbing them of the ability to maintain a coordinated defensive!"

"Indeed, that had occurred to me," the earth guardian grunted in reply. "Spyro, what do you think? Would you be up to facing Nexus again?"

"I think we can do it," the purple dragon replied immediately. Then he turned to his companions. "What do you all think?"

"I'm with you, whatever you chose," Cynder said without any hesitation, a look of firm determination in her eyes. "If we work together like we did against Malefor, I know we can do this."

"I'm with you too," Flash said after only a brief pause. "I might not be able to help very much against Nexus, but if we have to sneak past any grublins to get to him I can definitely help there."

"I'll come too," Faren added, sounding nervous but also sure of her decision.

"Faren, are you certain?" Tythos asked, a look of deep worry flashing across his expression. "You're talking about going to fight a purple dragon!"

"I know," Faren said, nodding, though the motion was a bit shaky. "But I can help, and the more of us there are to face him the better our chances will be. I want to do this."

Tythos looked extremely anxious at the prospect of his daughter venturing off to battle such a foe, but at that moment Sirius stepped in.

"She can handle it," he told his father firmly, though he also looked worried.

Tythos still hesitated, but at length he gave a heavy sigh.

"I know," he relented finally. Then he lifted his gaze and fixed it on his daughter, an almost pleading look in his eyes. "Just be certain to be careful in there. You don't know what you'll have to face."

Faren nodded her head obediently. "I will. Thank you, father."

Tythos gave a stiff nod in return before returning his attention to the guardians. Terrador and his companions were gazing straight at Spyro, as though studying him to see if he truly was up to this task.

"I'm glad that you're willing to take on this mission," the earth guardian said, "but are you all completely certain? This is no easy battle you're walking into. Spyro, you and Cynder know the best out of all of you, after having fought a purple dragon before. Are you confident that you can do this?"

Both young dragons nodded their heads without any hesitation whatsoever, Cynder with a hard look of determination in her eyes and Spyro with an unwavering conviction within him. This was something that he _had_ to do.

"Very well," Terrador said with a firm bob of his head. "Hunter, will you be able to take them to this entrance you found?"

The cheetah nodded firmly. "Of course, Terrador."

"Good. Then I suggest you all prepare yourselves. Be careful, and may the Ancestors watch over you, young ones."

"Thank you, Terrador," Spyro replied gratefully. "We won't let you down."

The large earth dragon smiled. "Of that I have no doubt. Now, as for the rest of us, let's not waste any more time about this. Gather your forces, everyone. We have a battle to get underway!"

The other guardians and elders made no objections, and they quickly turned back into the crags and spread out to rally the army and make ready to begin their advance. Meanwhile, Hunter stepped up in front of the group of four young dragons and Sparx.

"Follow me," he instructed, waving hand to the northwest. "We'll guide you to the entrance."

Spyro nodded and motioned with his wing for the cheetah to take the lead, which he did without delay, his two tribesmen at his sides. Without a sound the three cheetahs began their descent down the rocky slope into the deep, foreboding valley surrounding the Well of Souls, winding between jagged rock outcroppings and leaping over crevices on nimble feet. Spyro and his four friends followed him, struggling slightly to keep up with the agile cheetahs and having to frequently resort to gliding to keep pace. Spyro didn't mind, however; on the contrary, he appreciated the cheetahs' haste, anxious as he was to reach their destination.

He glanced backward after gliding across a particularly wide division in the stone that the cheetahs had barely been able to leap across, checking on the progress of his companions and glad to see that they were all keeping pace. Then, higher up the slope behind them he caught sight of the main body of the army, now fully gathered and arrayed in a broad column in the open, ready to charge down toward the mountain ahead. Just at that moment he could see Terrador moving out in front of the column, along with Cyril and Volteer, before the three guardians turned about to face their forces.

"This is it, everyone," Terrador declared in his deep, booming voice. "We've finally brought the battle to our foe on our own terms, and now is the time to end this conflict before it can grow to be as destructive as the one that came before it. For better or worse, it ends today."

"Spyro, we must keep moving," Hunter called back to the purple dragon, causing him to start slightly and glance forward to see the bright-furred cheetah beckoning toward him, as well as his friends nearby watching him expectantly. Feeling slightly embarrassed at having allowed his focus to slip, Spyro hurried to catch up and soon the whole group was moving again. Still, as they descended toward the thinly-treed valley ahead Spyro still kept his ear trained on the earth guardians' speech behind him.

"Once again, a purple dragon has risen up against us and our allies," Terrador continued grimly. "And once again, it has fallen to our young Spyro to deal the finishing blow in this battle. But unlike last time we don't have to resign ourselves to just wait helplessly while the fate of our world is decided. This time we have the chance to do our part and give our young friend the time and the opening he needs to emerge triumphant!"

There were several low rumbles and growls of agreement from the ranks of dragons, moles and cheetahs, and as he ran down the rugged slope Spyro couldn't help but give a small grin at the corner of his muzzle, feeling the guardian's words bolstering his own energy and his determination even if the words weren't directed at him.

"I know that for many of us this is our first time fighting together. But so long as we all fight for the same purpose and stand strong together, I see no reason that we cannot emerge victorious today. Now, let's show Nexus why the Dark Master was never able to defeat us! Let's drive the grublins from these realms once and for all!"

"For our lands and for our honour!" Cyril shouted proudly.

"For our homes!" the chief elder of the destroyed mountain village added, his roar soon being joined by those of almost every dragon from the village that had followed the army here.

The moles and cheetahs also added their voices to the rising cheer, their various calls of 'For Warfang!' and 'Avalar!' mixing together until all that could be heard was an unintelligible roar that seemed to shake the air and sent a tremendous chill down Spyro's spine.

Then, all as one, the dragons, moles and cheetahs surged forward and descended toward the mountain ahead of them, their voices echoing across the hills. Spyro faltered in his own run, his friends and their cheetah guides doing the same, and for a moment they just watched as the army of just over two hundred dragons, over a thousand moles, and dozens of cheetah warriors charged with reckless abandon toward the battle that awaited them.

Almost immediately the grublins responded. As the advancing army descended through the foothills around the mountain, Spyro could make out a number of heavy stone doorways set amongst the ruins of ancient stone lookout towers and guard houses began creaking open. Then, once a crack barely large enough for a full-grown dragon to squeeze through had opened, the grublins came pouring out of them. Despite their reduced numbers it was clear to see that they still had the army of dragons, moles and cheetahs outnumbered, but this fact didn't seem to dissuade the attackers. With a tremendous crashing and roaring that echoed over the mountains, the two armies met.

The noise was unbelievable. The ringing clangs of steel striking steel, the screech of talons scraping across armour and the roars and shouts of the combatants filled the air and drowned out all else. It was so loud that Spyro could hardly hear himself thinking, and as it was he was only barely able to make out Hunter's call.

"Now is our chance!" the cheetah announced urgently. "Come, quickly! We must move while the grublins are distracted. This way!"

The group of young dragons didn't hesitate to obey, running as quickly as their legs would allow them as their three cheetah guides resumed their earlier pace. Soon enough they had reached the cover of a sparse stand of trees that looked more dead than not, and as they pushed through the foliage their view of the nearby battle was obscured. The nearly-deafening commotion was always there to remind them of just how unsettlingly close the clash was, though, and every time the ring of steel or a shrill dying scream reached him Spyro felt his pace increase just a touch.

Soon enough the ground beneath their feet began to slope upward, the going becoming more and more difficult until every foot of progress became a struggle. Spyro and his dragon friends quite often had to resort to the use of their wings to assist them on their climb up the increasingly sheer and rugged terrain, while the nimble cheetahs leapt from one outcropping of rock to the next. By this point they had left the relative cover of the trees behind them, but they were far enough up the mountain that they would be difficult to spot from the ground either way. Instead of worrying about being seen, then, Spyro focussed solely on keeping pace with the cheetahs.

Finally, after what felt like hours of climbing, Hunter and his two tribesmen paused on a shelf of rock about halfway up the mountain and feeling mildly breathless from the climb Spyro gratefully took the moment of respite to regain his wind. Once this was accomplished he finally took in his surroundings and realized with a small feeling of surprise that they were standing on what must have once been a lookout post for whatever forces had once called this mountain their home. Now all that was left on the rock shelf was a couple of haphazard piles of crumbled stone that might have once been the foundations of walls, and a ruined doorway that was barely visible through the rubble and gnarled vegetation that covered it, sealing it shut.

"This is it," Hunter declared, sounding none the worse for wear after the long climb, though Spyro thought he could see just a hint of drooping in his shoulders. "If I'm correct then you should be able to enter the mountain from here."

"I suppose there's no way of knowing what we'll find once we get inside," Cynder commented with a mild sigh, sounding none too pleased about the prospect of running into an enemy fortification blind.

"Whatever it is, we can handle it," Spyro said firmly, hoping that the calm, even tone he used would help reassure his companions. He wasn't sure if it helped or not.

"I think you can safely assume that the vast majority of the grublins' forces are occupied down on the ground by this point," Hunter said with a nod. "You have all proven yourselves to be capable young dragons. So long as you stick together and keep your wits about you, you'll be fine."

"Thank you for your help, Hunter," Spyro told his friend.

Hunter inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Best of luck, young ones."

"Whoa, hold up!" Sparx cut in suddenly. "You mean you guys aren't sticking around to help? You know, fight bad guys, help keep us all from getting killed, fun stuff like that?"

"Our duty lies with our tribe," one of the other cheetahs, of a more yellow fur tone, replied simply, and Hunter nodded in agreement.

"Our place is down in the main battle, doing what we can to give you all the time you need to end this. Now, we must go. Be safe, my friends."

"You too," Cynder answered.

The cheetah offered an acknowledging smile, almost as though he was saying, 'I'll do my best,' and then the three nimble felines were off, descending the steep, jagged slope of the mountain with speed and silence that would make any other creature instantly envious of the apparent ease with which they moved—including the watching dragons and Sparx. In only a matter of moments they had faded into the distance, heading in the general direction of the battle far below.

"Alright, let's get moving," Spyro declared after another short pause, turning to face the crumbled entrance into the mountain. "Let's see if we can't get this door open again."

He stepped up closer to the collapsed, rubble-choked doorway and examined it for a minute, using both his eyes and the sense provided by his earth element to judge how solid this obstruction was. Age had allowed the rock and debris to settle into a densely-packed layer that blocked most of the broken stone door, but beyond that, as far as Spyro could tell, the passage was open and clear. Only a few feet of stone lay in their path.

His brow furrowing and his lips turning downward in a frown of concentration, Spyro directed his senses toward the earth beneath his paws and slowly, gradually began to pull and tug at its structure, bending it to his will. A moment later a low, quiet rumble emanated from the pile of rubble, and another second after that the larger, more solid pieces began to shift and crack. Almost like some sort of fluid moving in extremely slow motion the rock and stone shifted, buckled, folded and re-formed until the mound of crumbled debris had become two smaller, much more uniform mounds on either side of the door, which had cracked into two pieces which now lay at slightly lopsided angles against the cliff face. Beyond was a pitch black tunnel leading deep into the heart of the mountain.

Everyone hesitated as they stared at the dark, foreboding passage into blackness, an eerie silence hanging over the rock shelf save for the distant sounds of fighting below. Using his earth power, Spyro scanned as far into the passage as he could and detected no movement, but he still felt wary of this tunnel, which lead where they did not know. Tentatively Sparx floated closer to the opening and peered as deeply into the gloom and shadow as he could, and for just a moment Spyro wondered if he was going to try shouting into it. The dragonfly remained silent, however, and a second later he quickly spun around and retreated through the air as his nerves go the best of him, coming to hover close to Spyro's right horn. Spyro looked up at him with a brow raised.

"Hey, I went first the last time we were here," Sparx said in way of defence.

Spyro snorted, remembering his brother's antics from three years before, and despite the situation a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth before he shook his head and began cautiously padding toward the doorway. Every sense strained for even the slightest hint of danger as he drew nearer to the opening into the mountain, but the passage remained still before him even as he reached its threshold.

He sensed movement beside him, and he looked over to his right to see that Cynder had stepped up to his side. She met his gaze and held it for a long moment. In her eyes, Spyro saw a look of unwavering determination. He knew then that just like him she was determined to see this fight through to the end, and more than that he knew, somehow, that she was determined to let nothing separate her from his side again. At this realization, a small smile of gratitude worked its way onto his muzzle. Then, finally, he turned his gaze toward the tunnel again before taking a long, steadying breath.

"Alright, let's do this," he said.

A small thrill of fear shot through his chest, but a sense of determination and surety within him was driving him forward, that same sense that had led him to insist on going after Nexus without delay before. With an air of purpose and calm focus about him, he stepped into the passage and into the shadows, Cynder right by his side the whole while. Behind him, Spyro heard Flash and Faren hesitate nervously before quickly hurrying into the tunnel to catch up to their friends. Sparx lingered back the longest out of all of them.

"Oh, why me?" he moaned. "Why does this never end? Wh—Hey. Hey, wait up!"

Progress through the tunnel was slow and cautious, the near-total blackness making it almost impossible to see the floor or walls directly ahead of them. That didn't mean they were helpless, however; Spyro could use his earth element to easily feel the stone walls around them, while Cynder could apparently use her shadow abilities to roughly the same effect. Flash's eyes were glowing slightly as he amplified whatever little light did hit them, allowing him to see as well. That only left Faren with no means of sensing her surroundings, and Spyro suggested that Sparx stay closer to her so that the light he gave off could give her at least a small amount of comfort.

"Do you feel any grublins moving ahead?" Cynder asked in a hushed voice after a short while of travelling in silence.

"No," Spyro replied, shaking his head, though he knew the motion would probably be difficult to see.

"Me neither. I don't like how quiet it is."

Spyro grunted, a grim feeling intruding on his thoughts. "Let me know if you feel anything."

Cynder said nothing in reply, but it felt like an acknowledgement all the same.

A couple of minutes later the darkness within the passage slowly became replaced by a dim, flickering light, and ahead Spyro could see the tunnel beginning to widen before ending a few dozen more metres ahead. The group of dragons quickened their pace, and within moments they were standing pressed against the wall just within the tunnel mouth, peering out at what lay beyond.

"Whoa," Flash muttered weakly. "This place is _big_."

Spyro couldn't help but agree. While he had been to the Well of Souls once before, he had only seen a relatively small portion of it, mostly along the outer edges of the mountain as he made his way along pathways and corridors to the peak's summit. During his and Cynder's escape they had seen more of the interior, but again it was mostly a few small chambers, except for the one much larger chamber where the golem had ambushed them. Now, though, he realized that they were right in the heart of the mountain, and it was larger than he had imagined it would be.

The passage had opened up onto a narrow stone walkway that wrapped around a good portion of the cavernous, empty space before them. It looked as though this walkway and much of the surrounding area had been abandoned due to it being blocked off, but on the other side of the vast, empty chasm Spyro could see lit torches along other corridors and walkway, as well as a very small number of grublins moving back and forth, keeping watch. It seemed as though none of them had noticed the intruders yet, and Spyro intended to keep it that way.

"Come on," he muttered quietly, edging out from the tunnel and onto the empty, worn walkway. "Quietly."

The other dragons and Sparx nodded, and as silently as they could manage they began creeping along the walkway, following is gradual upward slope as it wound and turned around the exterior of the massive open space that looked as though it must have stretched up through most of the mountain. If they hadn't been worried about being seen Spyro realized that they could probably just fly straight up to the top. However, to do that now would be to make themselves easy targets for any grublins that happened to be armed with bows.

Eventually they reached the edge of the abandoned area of the walkway, stepping into the more lit passages, and Spyro felt his tension rising as he scanned his surroundings for any enemies. He saw none, but he kept on high alert as he turned to his right and moved to enter another, smaller hallway that led away from the main chasm. Just as he started walking, though, Sparx spoke up.

"Are you sure it's that way?" he hissed, and Spyro looked back to see him motioning with a thumb at the other passages that branched off from their position. There were four other hallways splitting away from that point, all of them lit by torches and all of them looking the same.

"Yes," Spyro replied without hesitation, his tone even. "It's this way."

"How do you know?" Faren asked, gazing at him quizzically.

Spyro opened his mouth to answer, but as soon as he did he faltered when he realized that he didn't truly have an answer to give. It was just a feeling inside of him—a firm, unwavering, insistent feeling that he couldn't explain, urging him in that direction. Eventually he just sighed and gave a shrug.

"I just do."

The other dragons and Sparx exchanged uncertain glances, appearing slightly unnerved that their leader didn't actually know where he was going, but they made no argument. Sparx looked like he was the closest to protest, but then suddenly he just waved his hands in surrender.

"Ah, what the heck," he grunted. "I'll go along with it. Lead the way, big boy."

Spyro nodded and turned toward the hallway he had begun to enter, which angled upward and around to his left out of sight. With his friends right behind him he quickly climbed through the hall, soon emerging inside a roughly square stone chamber that was almost entirely empty, save for a rotten wood table against one corner. A doorway was on the other side leading to another hall, and Spyro made for it without a second's hesitation.

He had hardly gone two steps into the room when a piercing shriek split the air, causing him to jump badly and go rigid, wide eyes darting about and trying to locate the source of the cry.

"Spyro, look out!" Cynder shouted a split-second later.

Spyro felt a jolting grunt escape him as the black dragoness suddenly slammed into his left side, tackling him to the ground. Before he even hit the floor he heard a sharp whistle in the air and a dark arrow whizzed past, barely a foot from his flank and missing Cynder by an even narrower margin. There was a sharp clatter as the projectile struck the stone floor and skittered across the cold grey tiling in two separate pieces. Then Spyro grunted again as he hit the floor hard, wincing as Cynder's weight came down on top of him.

"There's bowmen up on the right!" Flash called out, somewhat unnecessarily, for that was obvious enough from the arrow.

"No kidding!" Cynder snapped back. "Take them out!"

The black dragoness's sharp tone seemed to jolt the other two dragons into action, and barely a second later Flash had spun to his right and unleashed a focussed beam of light up at a recessed alcove high in the right wall of the chamber, where a pack of around a half-dozen bowmen had set up an ambush. He didn't hit any of the grublins, but he came close.

The beam lanced through the air and engulfed the leading end of the crossbow that one of the grublins was aiming into the chamber below, mere instants away from firing, and the weapon and the bolt loaded in it were reduced to ash in an instant. The grublin uttered a startled cry and stumbled backward in shock, while a second bowman beside it ducked back behind cover as the light beam tore into the ceiling only inches from its head.

At that same moment Cynder jumped off of Spyro and took aim at the left-most bowman, sucking in a sharp breath before spitting out a gob of sickly green poison from her jaws. The corrosive liquid blob arced through the air and struck her target squarely in the face. Spyro cringed as the unfortunate creature emitted a nearly deafening howl of agony and fell backward, dropping its bow into the room below as it reached up to tear at its burning face with its hands. Then, just at that moment he caught sight of a flash of motion out of the corner of his eyes and his breath caught in surprise and dread when he realized what it was.

"Cynder, down!" he shouted, leaping forward at the same time and grabbing the dragoness by the shoulder, yanking her downward to the floor. In the process he caused another shot of her poison breath to go wildly off course and splatter uselessly against the stone wall, but any angry outburst the black dragoness might have made at having her shot ruined died in her throat as a crossbow bolt buried itself in the stone inches from her flank.

Another beam of light from Flash caused the offending grublin to duck back behind cover, and barely a second later Faren took this opening to act. She charged up a bright orange fireball between her jaws before shooting her head forward and lobbing the searing orb of flames high into the air. Her aim, as always, was nearly perfect, and the fire bomb sailed into the alcove in which the grublins were hiding. There was a brilliant flash of red light and a tremendous roar as the fireball exploded, and smoke billowed out from the long, low opening in the wall. Grublins screamed, and two were thrown from the alcove by the force of the blast, trailing smoke and crashing to the floor below with sickening _splats_.

"There's still two up there!" Flash called out as the smoke began to clear and the dragons below could once again see the grublins that were just beginning to move to aim down at them once more.

"Not for long," Cynder growled darkly.

Spyro gave a small yelp of surprise as he suddenly felt her disappear from beneath his forepaws, and after landing roughly on the ground he looked up just in time to see an explosion of shadow in the alcove above. There was a brief moment in which the sounds of vicious close-quarters combat rang out in the room. Then, a few seconds later, there was a loud squeal and one of the two grublins was suddenly flung out into the open air with its own arrow protruding from the front of its shoulder. A split-second after it hit the ground there was a wet-sounding _crunch _of a blade punching through hardened flesh back up in the alcove, and after that all went silent.

A second later Cynder reappeared, a trail of shadow flitting down the wall of the chamber from the alcove before surging up and rematerializing into the black dragoness's form, a hard but pleased look in her eyes and her tail blade stained with dark blood.

"Problem solved," she declared smugly.

Spyro opened his mouth to answer, but just before he could he heard a clamour in the corridor ahead. It only took him a moment to realize that it was the sound of more grublins charging down the passage toward their position.

"Not quite."

"Aw, man," Sparx groaned as six more grublins armed with either swords or blades mounted to the end of long shafts of wood charged into the room, fanning out to cover the width of the chamber and glaring murderously at the dragons that had just slaughtered their comrades. "Here we go again."

"Spread out!" Spyro instructed immediately, rising quickly to his feet and settling into a ready stance. "We don't want to let them surround us in here."

His three friends were moving before he even finished speaking, Sparx hovering back away from the coming battle at the same time. Then, with a loud cry of defiance and bloodlust the grublins charged forward as a single straight line, levelling their weapons. Spyro snarled, then leapt forward as well.

His mind worked quickly as he closed with his enemies. Cynder was directly on his left side, heading for the centre of the grublin line, while Flash was to his right. In light of this he set his gaze on the grublin second from the right and veered toward it. The grublin raised its long-shafted weapon and swung it downward straight for him, but without so much as flinching Spyro sent a ripple of his power into the stone floor. A narrow slab of rock burst up between him and the grublin just before its weapon could reach him, striking the shaft of the weapon and knocking it clean out of the grublin's grip.

Before the startled creature could react Spyro released a focussed blast of earth energy from his jaws, splintering his own slab of rock and sending jagged shards of stone shrapnel flying through the air, peppering the grublin's body from its knees up to its neck. The grublin recoiled, and an instant later Spyro slammed into it with his talons spread wide and drove it down to the floor. His own momentum carried him back off of his victim immediately, but it was still unable to move before he clamped his jaws around its shoulder and heaved it into the air, sending it flying in a high arch before it crashed into another grublin that had been trying to skirt around Faren's flank while she engaged another of the squat, gnarled creatures.

A weak gurgle nearby informed him that Cynder had just defeated the foe she was engaged with, and an explosion of light on his other side signaled the death of another of Nexus's small soldiers. A wave of fire from Faren consumed a fourth, and the fifth fell a second later as the grublin Spyro had just thrown met its end from a beam of convexity from the purple dragon. That left only one, sprawled out on the floor after being bowled over by its own comrade. Just because it was down, didn't mean it was no longer dangerous though. With a defiant shriek it lunged upward and plunged the blade of its sword forward, straight for Faren's exposed flank.

The slight red dragoness was too quick for it, and with reflexes developed over the years of training her father had given her she spun out of the way of the grublin's blade before retaliating by spitting a ball of fire directly into its face. The grublin screamed and fell back clutching at its burning face, but the cry was cut short as a wave of Cynder's shadow fire washed over it, smothering it after only a couple of short seconds and turning its body to ash.

"Alright, let's keep moving," Spyro said, turning toward the now open corridor entrance. "With that battle going on outside we don't have any time to waste."

"There are probably going to be a lot more grublins between us and Nexus from this point on," Cynder cautioned.

"Then we'll fight our way through them," Spyro replied evenly. "The only way we can go from here is forward. Now let's go."

Spyro began moving toward the hallway ahead, but he had only gone a single step when he suddenly found his path blocked by Cynder, who was gazing intently back at him.

"Wait," she said, causing him to pause in confusion. "You should hang back."

Spyro faltered, stunned, and he fixed Cynder with a puzzled look.

"Hang back?" he repeated, feeling surprised and even a little bit hurt by that instruction. "Why?"

"Because you need to save your strength for when we face Nexus," she replied, her gaze unwavering. "Don't worry, we can handle clearing the way. Just follow us and get ready to take on Nexus when we get there."

"But Cynder," he began to protest, not at all liking the idea of waiting on the sidelines while his friends fought, but she quickly cut him off.

"I'm serious about this, Spyro. He beat you once already. You need all your strength if we want to keep that from happening again." She turned toward the doorway to reinforce her point and beckoned to Faren with a nod of her head, the two dragonesses moving into the lead. "We can handle this, Spyro. Just stay close and watch our rear."

Spyro didn't have time to offer another argument, because right at that moment Sparx gave a loud, deep snort as though trying to stifle a sudden laugh. The dragons all turned quizzical eyes up at him.

"What?" Cynder asked with a mildly suspicious look in her eye.

"Nothing," Sparx replied a bit too quickly, glancing away evasively and covering a smirk with his hand. "I just..." He snorted again as another mischievous laugh threatened to break free. "But you do realize how unfortunate your wording there was, right?"

Another muffled snort escaped him, and at the same time Cynder's eyes narrowed into a glare while a look of surprise crossed Faren's expression when she realized what the dragonfly meant. She immediately turned her head away almost as if from embarrassment, but Cynder just kept glaring up at Sparx. It was a moment before Sparx finally noticed the looks he was getting.

"What?" he exclaimed, throwing his arms to the sides before turning a helpless yet still slightly mischievous look toward Spyro and Flash. "You can't tell me I'm the only one who thought that."

Flash said nothing, which wasn't entirely a surprise, and Sparx quickly settled his gaze squarely on his brother. Spyro didn't bother to reply either, knowing that a denial would just encourage the dragonfly. Instead he turned his gaze forward, meeting Cynder's before motioning with his chin toward the hallway.

"So are we going?" he asked.

Cynder gave little more than a grunt in way of reply, and she shot Sparx one last dark look before turning away and moving ahead into the corridor at a jogging pace, Faren following right by her side. Spyro exchanged a quick glance with Flash to make sure the younger dragon was ready before they hurried after the dragonesses, Sparx following resignedly and grumbling something about being ignored again.

The first few minutes passed without any further trouble, Spyro and Flash keeping right on Cynder's and Faren's tails. Whenever they reached a fork in the passages ahead of them they would slow and Cynder would look back expectantly at Spyro, who after only a brief pause would indicate which tunnel they should follow. In this manner they climbed steadily higher and higher in the mountain, drawing ever nearer to its crumbled summit.

Then, after rounding a sharp corner and emerging in a more open stretch of pathway, about as wide as the main street in Warfang and with one side open to the sheer drop of the cavern in the mountain's core, they encountered the next wave of resistance. Five standard grublins stood in a line before them, weapons ready, as though they had always been expecting the dragons to come through this way.

The battle was over quickly. Barely a second had passed since the grublins had first come into view before Cynder leapt forward with a challenging roar, Faren close behind her. Three of the grublins met her with equal ferocity, while the other two cowered back in the face of the black dragoness's fury. Either way, it didn't matter. In mere moments they had been dispatched by fangs, talons, poison and fire, leaving the way before them clear once again. Cynder paused for a moment to catch her breath before looking back at the two males, who had hardly moved a muscle since the short battle had begun. A wry smirk of equal parts amusement and irritation crossed her features, directed at Spyro in particular.

"When I said that we could handle leading in the fighting, that didn't necessarily mean that you have to do _nothing_ to help," she said teasingly.

"He was too busy watching your rear," Sparx quipped unhelpfully, earning a glare from both Cynder and his brother.

"You aren't going to let that go, are you?" Flash asked, sounding as though he already knew the answer.

"Not a chance," Sparx replied, crossing his arms proudly.

Cynder gave an exasperated groan and rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's just keep moving. Spyro, do you think we have much farther to go?"

Spyro paused, frowning in concentration as he opened himself again to that strange feeling within him that was urging him forward, guiding them up the mountain, and after a moment he looked up and gave a small shake of his head.

"It feels like we're getting close."

A grim look settled over the expressions of the other dragons, and after a short pause Cynder nodded once.

"Alright, then we'd all better be careful from here on. He's probably waiting for us."

"Why do the bad guys always do that?" Sparx cut in, although by the sound of it the question was rhetorical.

"Beats me," Spyro said anyway. Then he jerked his chin forward. "Come on, let's move."

His friends were all in agreement, and together they resumed their hurried pace up through the corridors. Unfortunately, if they had been hoping for the rest of their way to be clear then they were soon disappointed. It seemed like every few steps now they would run into another band of grublins coming down the passages and corridors to head them off.

It was rarely more than four at a time now, though, and as such each battle only managed to delay them for a few short minutes before they were on their way once again. Still Spyro could feel his frustration mounting at the constant resistance. That, and the fact that Cynder was still forcing him to stay in the back of the group during each battle. On a couple of occasions he had stepped in to assist when he had seen one of his friends in a dangerous position, but for the most part he wasn't needed.

He hated that feeling.

They were in the middle of their sixth skirmish when Spyro finally lost his patience. While Cynder, Faren and Flash were battling against two surprisingly stubborn armoured grublins armed with axes, Spyro silently sidestepped around their flank until he had a clear view of the three other grublins that were waiting for an opening to strike. Then he squared himself to his targets, sucked in a deep breath, and cracked his jaws open wide.

By the time the grublins saw him, it was too late to do anything. A look of panic appeared on their faces a split second before he unleashed his attack.

The air seemed to shatter as a conical blast of green earth energy exploded out from his jaws, the sheer volume of the shockwave causing everyone's ears to ring. The three grublins were swept up in the blast and hurled, screaming, over the edge of the open drop-off that bordered the walkway there.

The other two grublins whirled around at the sudden sound, watching with shocked expressions behind their masks of armour as their comrades plummeted away from them, but this was a fatal mistake on their part. One of the pair uttered a strangled gasp as Flash's tail blade suddenly punched through the armour between its shoulder blades and fell limply a second later. The other, meanwhile, met its end when Cynder let loose a horrifically powerful, point-blank blast of wind, the resulting jet of air so strong and so focussed that it blew a hole clear through the grublin's torso. Spyro cringed and felt his gut churn as its dark blood was sprayed across the pathway, and then in eerie silence it fell to the earth, never to move again.

They didn't waste even a second. As soon as they were certain that their foes were no longer a threat to them the group of dragons were off again. This time Flash took the lead, allowing Cynder a short respite to catch her breath after always being the one leading the charge against the grublin defenders. As they hastened through the corridors they ran into a few more grublins, but these were only coming in singles or pairs and Flash merely brushed them aside with precisely-aimed beams of light. The smell of charred, burnt flesh and blood soon filled the air around them, and Spyro felt his insides turn at the stench, but they never slowed their pace.

"You know what I want to know?" Sparx asked suddenly as another grublin met its abrupt end thanks to the surprising power of Flash's element.

"What's that?" Spyro grunted, glancing only briefly up at his brother before returning his watchful gaze to the tunnel ahead of them.

"Why doesn't Nexus just send all of these grublins at us at once? Wouldn't it make a _lot_ more sense to group them all together and wipe us out in one big smashfest? He's not going to stop us this way unless one of these uglies gets _really_ lucky."

"He isn't trying to stop us," Cynder interjected.

"What?"

"He's trying to slow us down," the black dragoness said. "To tire us out, so that when we do get to him it will be that much easier for him to beat us."

"Oh yeah?" Sparx asked skeptically, crossing his arms as he flew. "And what makes you so sure of that?"

Cynder turned her head and fixed the dragonfly with a look of unquestionable seriousness.

"Because that's exactly what I did."

Sparx faltered, an uncertain and suddenly uncomfortable look in his expression, and a grim silence fell briefly over the small group. Spyro turned a studying gaze at his black-scaled companion, and it was evident by the hard look in her eyes that she knew what she was talking about. Suddenly it made just a bit more sense why she had been so insistent that he remain at the back of the charge.

They both had firsthand experience with this sort of situation, but unlike him her experience was from _both_ sides of the battle lines.

With that sobering fact in mind, he turned his focus entirely on the battle that was drawing ever closer to them. He could just _feel_ that they didn't have far to go now, and within him he could feel that familiar, tight sensation of anticipation and anxiousness he knew from every time a final battle had laid directly before him. There was no escaping or avoiding it now.

No matter who came out on top, the end was finally within sight.

***.*.***

He was coming.

He couldn't see him or hear him, but that wasn't necessary for Nexus to know that Spyro was rapidly closing in on his position. Just like the inner sense that Spyro at that very moment was using to guide him toward the other purple dragon, Nexus could just _feel_ it within him.

The realization that the other purple dragon would soon reach him caused surprisingly little of a reaction within Nexus. He felt only a hard, grim determination as he sat alone inside the empty stone chamber. The battle was coming, and there was nothing he could do to escape it, and so there was no point in working himself up with anxiety that would only distract him. The question now wasn't whether or not there _would_ be a battle, but rather who would emerge victorious.

For possibly the first time in his life, Nexus didn't feel confident in his ability to win. Spyro wouldn't come alone; that much was obvious. And after having survived one confrontation with the other purple dragon Spyro now knew more of what to look out for. This battle would be difficult, and deep inside Nexus knew full well that there was a distinct possibility of him losing.

That didn't mean he would give up, though. No, he would fight to the death if that was what it came down to. Surrender was not something he accepted. Cowardice was a thing that he had been taught all his life to despise and never submit to. He would fight, and he would not stop until he had won or was dead.

But that brought a new question to Nexus's mind, one that caused him to pause.

How far would he go to attain victory?

Would he kill his brother to ensure his own survival? He certainly didn't value Spyro's life above his own, but the thought of killing him was still one he found unsettling. That hadn't been part of his mission, and it had never been his goal. Now, as he sat in the dim cavern, he realized that this question was one that he didn't have an answer to, one that it seemed would only be decided when such a decision was forced upon him.

Who would escape that battle alive? Whether it was one, both, or even neither, only the battle itself would tell.

Resigning himself to the unavoidable, Nexus blew out a long, slow breath, relaxed the tense, bunched muscles along his body, and opened his senses to the world around him, both natural and those of his elements. Then he waited.

He didn't have to wait for long.

***.*.***

The inner sense that was pulling him forward suddenly flared in strength, and Spyro immediately reduced his pace, a sense of wariness and apprehension rising within him. His friends noticed him slow almost instantly, and they halted their run and turned inquisitive looks back at him. By their expressions, though, it was clear they already had a strong suspicion what his trouble was.

"We're close," he said in a quiet voice, without a hint of doubt in his tone.

An air of tension descended over the small group as the full weight of what they were about to do slowly settled down on them. Cynder had a hard look in her eyes but didn't betray any fear, although Spyro suspected that she did still feel some within her; they both had the last time they had fought a purple dragon, after all, and the terror of his defeat in the last battle was still fresh in his own mind. Flash looked much more anxious, though, and there was evident fear on Faren's expression. Spyro thought he could see slight, nervous tremors running along the red dragoness's body, but she gave no indication of turning back and for that he admired her courage.

Still, he worried for them. This would be a much more challenging fight than either of them had ever faced, and for a moment he felt guilty about bringing them along with him. But then again they had decided to come of their own accord, and it was obvious that their commitment to that promise hadn't wavered.

Taking a long, deep breath, he steeled his nerves and turned his gaze up toward the widening corridor ahead of them, the end now in sight.

"Stay close together," he told them before padding cautiously forward.

As the group neared the edge of the passage, the floor beneath their feet began to gradually level out and the walls around them slowly fell away. Soon it became apparent that they were exiting into a large, open chamber carved out of the stone around them. It was lit only barely by a couple of dimly-burning torches at irregular intervals around the wall, but aside from that there was nothing truly of note within the space, not like the more elaborate spaces where he had faced Gaul, Cynder, or even Malefor himself. The only thing that stood out within that room was the figure sitting in its centre.

As Spyro and his friends entered the chamber, Nexus opened his eyes almost as though awakening from slumber or some sort of trance. Slowly he turned his gaze until he had locked it with that of Spyro, and despite himself Spyro felt a chill of apprehension run through him when those hard, red-tinged eyes bored into him. The other purple dragon's face was an unreadable mask, his body betraying no sign of tension. He exuded nothing but focus and cold determination.

For some strange reason, this unsettled Spyro. He had been expecting...well, he didn't actually know. All he knew was that this wasn't it. Perhaps he had been anticipating Nexus to display the derision that Gaul had presented, or Malefor's mocking play of the welcoming host, or even an ambush like Cynder. He hadn't been counting on this impassive stare, which seemed to hold him frozen in place with its veiled contempt and hostility.

It was almost a minute before the silence was finally broken, no one daring to move until Nexus at last spoke.

"Are you here to kill me?" he asked simply.

Just like his expression, his tone was masked expertly. Spyro was unable to tell whether the question contained anger or fear; it had been posed so casually, as though it was of little consequence. At length he opened his mouth answer, but then he faltered.

Was he?

He shook his head slightly, forcing away that confusing thought.

"I'm here to stop you," he said firmly instead. "However it's necessary."

Nexus gave a grunt and a small nod, understanding what his counterpart was telling him; Spyro didn't want to kill, but he would if he was left with no other choice.

With a slow, resigned air about his motions, Nexus rose to his feet and squared himself to the four intruders, and in reaction Spyro immediately dropped into a ready stance, instantly alert for signs of an attack now that his foe was moving. Just as quickly his companions spread out, Cynder dropping into a low stance just a few feet to his left and letting out a low snarl while Faren and Flash sidestepped farther to the sides. Ahead of them Nexus glanced between them all for a brief moment, sizing up his opposition. Then his eyes settled on Spyro again, and the purple dragon faltered slightly when he saw the look in them; that same look of resignation that had been in his motions, as though he was about to do something that he would rather not.

"So be it, then," he muttered grimly.

He moved so quickly that Spyro didn't have a prayer of reacting in time. It was obvious that he had tapped into his Dragon Time power, but that knowledge couldn't help him in any way as Nexus suddenly dashed across the space separating them, a blur of purple and dark bronze. An instant later Spyro cried out as he felt talons rake across his left flank, blood spattering the floor, the blow strong enough to lift him off his feet for a second before crashing back down onto the stone a couple of feet away.

In a flash Cynder had leapt at the purple dragon that had just attacked her dearest companion, snarling with vicious fury, but Nexus was too quick even for her. He easily dodged to the side as her talons slammed into the stone floor, cutting deep gouges in the rough grey surface, and at the same time he spun around and brought his tail up in retaliation. Cynder managed to lean back in time to dodge, but she wasn't quick enough to avoid the wing that followed. She uttered a weak cry as the folded wing slammed into the side of her head and was thrown back through the air.

A beam of light cut through the air, coming within inches of striking Nexus in the neck, but somehow the purple dragon was able to lean back far enough to avoid it, the blinding beam of energy crashing instead into the far wall of the chamber and leaving a dark scorch mark upon the stone. A second later Flash uttered a startled yelp as Nexus dashed straight for him with his Dragon Time again, and when he lashed out with his talons in a desperate attempt to defend himself Nexus easily knocked his paw aside before thrusting a forepaw hard into his chest, the paw crackling with built-up electricity. Flash grunted as he was knocked back several feet by the blow and crumpled to the ground, wincing as he lay there winded and stunned by the jolt of electricity that Nexus had sent through his body.

In the moment that he had been fighting Flash, Nexus didn't see Spyro rising to his feet behind him until it was too late. He uttered a snarl of pain as the other purple dragon suddenly crashed into him from behind, digging the talons of his forepaws into the scales of his back just beneath his shoulders. Before he could try to throw his assailant off Spyro twisted with all his strength, throwing his counterpart to the ground. As soon as Nexus hit the floor Faren seized this chance to leap at him, catching Spyro by surprise in a move that was much more aggressive than he had expected from her. She didn't manage to land a strike, however, because as soon as she reached him he rolled over and kicked with one rear leg, catching her in the chest and launching her back through the air.

Spyro tried again to catch his opponent while he was distracted, charging him at the same time that Cynder did as well, both dragons bearing down on Nexus while he was vulnerable, but Nexus was ready for them. In a single motion that seemed too quick to be possible, he flipped up onto his feet again and spun around in a tight arc, swinging his tail up, the spaded tip beginning to glow with convexity. Spyro's eyes widened in fear when he realized what was coming, but it was too late to alter his course.

Nexus's convexity-charged tail swept straight into both him and Cynder, and Spyro felt the wind knocked out of him as a violet shockwave erupted from the point of impact, throwing both him and Cynder back through the air with weak grunts and slamming them into a nearby wall. Spyro's vision exploded with stars, and it was several seconds before he was able to stagger to his feet again. In this time Flash and Faren worked together in a frantic attempt to keep Nexus occupied while their two friends recovered from the blow they had received, but Nexus was more than a match for both of them. A brief flurry of precisely-aimed blows was all that was needed to send them both skidding back across the stone floor, groaning with a fresh array of bruises and scratches along their bodies.

"Come on!" Nexus snarled, rounding on Spyro and fixing him with a hard, bitter glare. "Tell me you all can do better than that!"

A surge of anger flooded through Spyro's veins at the taunt, and with a sharp roar he charged again.

The next few moments were filled with utter chaos. Spyro, Cynder, Flash and Faren battled frantically in an attempt to overpower their single opponent, but somehow he was able to match their combined strength at every turn. Whether they engaged him singly, in pairs, or even all at once he managed to avoid or deflect nearly all of their strikes, paying each one back with the precision and efficiency of a master combatant. Soon Spyro could feel a familiar sense of frustration and helplessness somewhere deep inside him as, just like last time, the other purple dragon proved to be too strong.

His world exploded with light and pain as a half-dozen chains of blazing yellow electricity suddenly arced through the air and connected with his body, the massive surge of energy tearing through him. A second later the power slackened as Nexus paused to duck below a swing of Cynder's tail, and in this opening Spyro focussed with all his might before slamming a forepaw against the ground, using his own electricity element to channel the flow of Nexus's attack out of his body and into the stone earth. He gasped as the sharp, numbing pain faded from his body, but he didn't even have a second to catch his breath before a wave of icy air washed over him.

He jumped as quickly as he could to the side, but he wasn't fast enough and gave a pained cry as his right foreleg became frozen solid in a cast of clear ice, immobilized. Once again he used his own elemental powers to free himself from Nexus's attack, flexing his leg at the same time as directing power from his ice element into the limb, and the coating of ice shattered. Unfortunately this gave Nexus more than enough time to act, however, and he looked up just in time to give a startled shout before Nexus slammed into him, tackling him to the ground. He raised a forepaw to strike.

A savage roar cut through the air, and before Nexus could deliver his blow a blur of dark scales slammed into him, wrenching him off of Spyro and causing him to tumble along the ground. He and Cynder came to rest a few feet away in a snarling tangle of thrashing limbs and talons, but then Nexus managed to catch Cynder in the side of her head with an elbow, dazing her long enough for him to extract himself from underneath her. She gave a startled cry as he suddenly swept her forelegs out from under her with his tail before he pinned her to the ground with a forepaw, lifting the other in preparation to drive his talons into her throat.

Suddenly the air behind him shimmered, and the purple dragon gave a surprised grunt as Flash appeared behind him and grabbed his foreleg with his paws, wrenching him backward and off balance. A look of rage flashed across Nexus's features, and with a sharp snarl he spun around and slashed the talons of his other forepaw across Flash's face, causing him to shout in pain as three shallow gashes were opened up across his cheek. At that moment Cynder jumped on him again, clawing at his back and trying to pin him long enough to strike at him with her bladed tail, but at that moment it seemed as though Nexus had had enough. With a roar he unleashed a burst of convexity from his body, throwing both his assailants through the air.

Barely a second after Nexus's attack faded the violet light of convexity flashed again within the chamber, and Nexus's grunt of surprise was cut short as a powerful beam slammed into him full force, rocketing him back through the air. He hit the far wall of the chamber hard and collapsed into a rough, dazed heap on the ground. Any elation Spyro might have felt at _finally_ getting a solid hit in on his counterpart was drowned out by a feeling of grim purpose as he charged up another convexity attack, taking careful aim at Nexus as he dazedly raised his head and shook it.

Nexus saw the attack coming just in time, and his eyes went wide in shock and fear for a second before he madly scrambled to his feet and dove for safety. Spyro's second convexity beam lanced through the air where he had just been a split-second later, exploding against the chamber's rough stone wall and sending dust and debris flying in all directions.

Spyro cursed furiously in his mind and was just about to launch another attack, but before he could he faltered when a deep rumble filled the air of the chamber, and a small tremor ran through the floor. Everyone paused, Spyro and his friends looking around in confusion and apprehension while Nexus looked up toward the ceiling with a wary expression.

"The mountain's unstable!" Cynder called out as realization struck her. "We must be just below the part that collapsed before!"

"Then how about we don't do that again?" Sparx called out with tension lining his voice, the dragonfly hovering as far out of the way of the fighting as he possibly could. "Not that getting buried inside a whacky time crystal for three whole years wasn't fun enough the last time or anything!"

Spyro paused to glance back at his brother, but this turned out to be a critical mistake on his part. As soon as he shifted his gaze from his opponent Nexus tapped into his Dragon Time ability once again and tackled Spyro viciously before he could react. Spyro slammed down hard on his back with Nexus standing over him. Then his world exploded with pain as the other purple dragon drove the talons of his right forepaw straight into Spyro's flank, spraying fresh blood across the stone floor.

"Spyro!" Cynder cried in alarm, and in an instant she was charging for Nexus as fast as her legs could carry her, leaping once she was within reach with her talons outstretched and ready to tear the purple dragon to pieces. Once again, though, Nexus was too quick. In a motion that was little more than a blur he yanked his talons out of Spyro's flank and swung his forepaw around, catching Cynder across the face with it and knocking her back through the air. It looked like the blow dazed her badly, because when she hit the ground and slid to a stop she didn't move for a moment, and in this opening Nexus charged up a ball of electricity between his jaws to finish her off.

A raging ball of flames slammed into the side of his face a mere instant before he unleashed the electricity orb, causing it to shoot off target and explode harmlessly farther into the chamber. Fury twisted his features into a snarl as he turned a burning glare toward Faren, and after slamming a forepaw against Spyro's head to daze him he spun around and fired a large icicle from between his jaws. Faren let out a choked scream of pain as the spear of ice struck her, punching a hole through the membrane of her right wing before embedding itself into the stone wall of the chamber, pinning the dragoness in place.

Spyro struggled when he saw Nexus readying an earth missile to finish Faren off, desperate to protect his friend, but Nexus had him pinned firmly beneath him. A feeling of helplessness crashed over him, feeling powerless like never before in the face of the growing reality that even with three of his friends helping him, he _still_ couldn't bring Nexus down, and now one of those friends was about to meet their end because of his weakness.

He struggle harder, cracking his jaws open and unleashing a torrent of electricity in a desperate attempt to save Faren, but to his horror the forking chains of electricity merely deflected off Nexus's scales, repelled by his own electrical powers. A moment later help arrived, though, and Nexus uttered a roar of pain as Flash suddenly appeared by his side, driving the point of his tail blade into the purple dragon's left thigh and causing blood to gush from the wound, but then a look of pure rage came over Nexus's features and he spun his head around before cracking his jaws open as wide as they would go and releasing the earth missile that he had charged up. Flash was struck full in the face by the lumpy rocky projectile, and Spyro could only watch in horror as his young friend was hurtled back through the air, crashing into the chamber wall and sliding limply down to the floor, remaining motionless.

"I've had about enough of this!" Nexus snarled, glaring back down at Spyro once again. "Why don't you just take the hint and quit! You _still_ can't beat me, brother!"

Spyro's vision flashed as Nexus's paw slammed into the side of his head again, and while he was still disoriented the other purple dragon gripped him on the shoulder with his jaws and spun him around, throwing him through the air and slamming him into the wall close to Flash. His head struck stone, and pain flooded through his skull as he collapsed to the ground. A wave of fear crashed over him, just like before, when he realized that he once again stood no chance against his foe's superior fighting skills. He had lost.

_NO!_

Something within him snapped the instant he had that thought of defeat, the driving feeling that had forced him to come to this place suddenly exploding in strength and filling his being, accompanied by a searing wave of anger that flooded his veins so that they felt like they were on fire.

_I will not lose!_ he roared in his mind, a jumbled mix of rage, desperation, and deadly intent filling his soul. In that moment, only one thing mattered anymore.

Nexus had to be stopped.

Nexus _had_ to die.

It felt like an outside force was driving him onward then, playing on his emotions and amplifying them, twisting them to its own designs, but in that moment he didn't care. All he knew was anger, and with a terrible, bellowing roar that shook the mountain chamber he surged to his feet and leapt. Nexus, who had shifted his attention to Cynder as she was just then beginning to rise off the ground, didn't have a chance to defend himself before Spyro careened into him, bowling him over and knocking him like a rag doll across the ground. He managed to roll back up to his feet and spin around to face his attacker, but as soon as he did a look of shock and fear came over his features.

Spyro didn't pause to wonder about the change in his opponent's expression. His mind was empty except for anger, only a single goal before him in that moment. He lashed out with the talons of his right forepaw, which had become enshrouded in wisps of darkness and trailed tendrils of inky shadow behind it. Nexus brought up his own forepaw to block the attack, and he gave a grunt as the savage impact sent pain lancing up his foreleg.

Without a second's pause Spyro swung again with his other forepaw, and again Nexus blocked, but Spyro just kept on attacking with ever-increasing ferocity, and even Nexus's training and skill couldn't protect him from such an onslaught. Spyro broke through, and once he had he began battering and tearing without mercy, his mind void of everything save for the thundering rage that screamed for the other dragon's blood.

It was almost like a dream, something surreal and that wasn't really happening. There was no thought within his consciousness, the rational part of his mind sealed away behind a veil of animalistic rage and insatiable bloodlust. A white, fuzzy haze had settled over his vision, causing the world around him to appear distorted and unreal. Dimly, as though over a tremendous distance he heard the sound of Cynder screaming his name but it didn't register in his conscious thoughts, for he had none.

A look of panic had settled over Nexus's features as he struggled desperately to ward off the blows of his crazed attacker, but now that he had the upper hand Spyro refused to let it go. He hammered his opponent with blow after blow, channeling the power of convexity into his paws and tail as he landed strike after crippling strike. Bruises covered Nexus's body, blood streaming down from gashes all over his hide, and now all he could do was curl defensively in on himself as he was assaulted by an unending storm of pain and violence.

Spyro didn't stop.

He had practically backed Nexus up to the wall by this point, his rage-fuelled strength allowing him to toss the other dragon about as though he was nothing but a frail, empty shell with no power left to him anymore. Nexus was screaming in pain now with every blow that landed, every bone in his body on the verge of shattering under the force of the beating.

And still Spyro didn't stop.

Nexus's rump hit the wall of the chamber, bringing his retreat to a sudden halt, and from there on he had nowhere to go to escape. He was utterly helpless as Spyro continued his attack, lost in his frenzy. Nexus's cries couldn't reach him, nor the desperate cries of his friends to stop. Nothing would satisfy him in that moment except Nexus's life.

In a final act of desperation, Nexus gathered up all the power he could and unleashed it in an explosion of convexity, directed forward at his attacker, but Spyro merely reared back and swept his wings outward, deflecting the shockwave of dark energy as though it were nothing more than a gentle breeze. Then, before Nexus could recover from his attack Spyro lashed out with a forepaw and caught him in the throat with the pad.

Immediately Nexus's eyes bugged out and he uttered a strangled choking sound, and he started to double over from the blow but before he could Spyro slammed him again on the flank with his paw, driving whatever wind he had left out of his body. Then he reached forward with his jaws, gripped Nexus around the base of his neck and heaved, flipping the other purple dragon up over his shoulder and slamming him down back first on the stone floor with enough force to shake the room.

Nexus uttered a weak, broken groan of pain as he lay sprawled out on the stone, choking and gripping at his neck with a forepaw, and Spyro stepped forward until he stood over his downed foe, lifting a forepaw and pressing it down on the other dragon's chest, pinning him to the ground. A low, predatory growl rumbled from his throat, a murderous snarl etched across his darkened features, and he leaned his head down so that his blazing white eyes hovered barely a foot away from his victim's.

"You've lost," he snarled, his cold, distorted voice rumbling through the horrified silence that had descended over the room.

A strained, feeble laugh escaped Nexus's jaws, the purple dragon somehow managing to force a breath in past the pressure was exerting on his chest.

"Go ahead then," he gasped, opening his eyes and fixing his gaze upon Spyro, a look of resignation but also defiance on his face despite the horrible, demonic eyes that stared back at him. "Finish it."

Even through the haze of anger, those words caught Spyro by surprise. He hesitated, gazing down inquisitively at the dragon pinned beneath him.

"Do it," Nexus urged him, more forcefully. "If you want me gone so bad, then get it over with! I'm dead anyway."

Spyro's eyes narrowed into a fresh snarl, and inside he decided that if Nexus was so eager to die, why should he make him wait any longer? Slowly, with an air of dark purpose about the motion, he raised his right forepaw into the air, his talons gleaming in the dim torchlight of the chamber, viciously sharp.

Farther into the chamber, Cynder and the rest of his friends were watching the scene in absolute horror. Barely moments before Cynder had managed to free Faren from the wall of the room, yanking the ice spike out of the stone and her wing, and around the same time Flash had regained consciousness. Now the three dragons and Sparx were watching with wide, horrified eyes as the dark version of their friend readied himself to end the life of another. Cynder was screaming at him, begging him to stop, to break free from the grip his anger had on his mind, knowing that even though Nexus was an enemy Spyro would never want to kill another in cold blood and anger like this.

Spyro was oblivious to all of this, focussed solely on the task at hand.

"Come on," Nexus spat, defiance burning in his eyes as he glared up at Spyro. "What are you waiting for? Kill me, brother!"

Spyro gave another low snarl and tensed his talons, ready to deliver his killing blow. This paw twitched before, with a sharp growl, he shot it downwards.

And then stopped.

Deep within the confines of his mind, a small pinprick of rational thought somehow managed to punch through the crushing grip his rage had on his thoughts, causing him to pause. Did he actually want to do this? Was killing Nexus—his _brother_—in a fit of rage the solution he was looking for? The dragon pinned helplessly beneath him had caused him more torment and pain than any other dragon ever had, and there was little doubt in his mind that Nexus most likely did deserve to die, but what he was doing just felt somehow _wrong_.

_Am I really a killer?_ he thought dazedly through the veil of fury, the thought faint and distant as though lost in a dream.

A brief feeling of horror and revulsion flitted through him when it finally dawned on him just what he was doing, and he slowly began to lower to paw he had raised, his movements shaky and hesitant, as though he were somehow confused. He couldn't believe what he had almost let himself do, and now he wanted nothing more than to stop himself before it was too late.

Without any warning a crushing grip took hold of his mind, and his entire body became frozen, rigid, as a familiar and terrifying presence became tangible within the confines of his jumbled, rage-fuelled thoughts. A deep, rumbling growl sounded within his skull, feeling like it could shake the air if it were real.

"_Why do you hesitate?"_ a chilling voice asked, sounding very displeased. _"You have him at your mercy. Finish him!"_

Spyro hesitated, a feeling of apprehension rising inside of him. Those words; he knew them. He had heard them before, in his dreams, and they unsettled him just as much now as they had then.

"_It is your purpose!"_ the voice continued. _"Your duty! He is a disgrace to your kind! Finish him, and be done with it!"_

Spyro's uncertainly and trepidation rose, and he slowly began lowering his paw again even despite the insistent pressure inside to do the opposite. He was dimly aware of Nexus gazing up at him with a deeply puzzled expression, but with the dark pressure clamped down on his mind he didn't truly register it.

"_What are you doing?"_ the voice demanded._ "Kill him!"_

For several seconds he remained locked there, grappling with his confused thoughts and indecision. Finally, though, a hard determination managed to break through the anger that lingered within him that clouded his thoughts and the heavy pressure of the unknown presence. His features settled into a scowl of defiance, his glowing white eyes narrowing into a glare. Nexus tensed, sensing that the end was coming.

With slow, purposeful movements, Spyro he dropped his paw and stood.

"No," he growled quietly in his distorted voice, both out loud and inside his own mind. "I'm not a killer."

He lifted the paw that was holding Nexus down and took a step backward, at the same time releasing the anger that had been flooding through him. The glowing in his eyes subsided, and the darkness that clung to his scales slowly melted away. Nexus was staring at him with obvious confusion on his face, clearly caught off guard by what had just happened and not sure if he should believe it. Farther away, he vaguely heard Cynder release a long, strained sight of relief, glad that Spyro was back and that the horrifying scene was over.

Without any warning at all, the pressure in his skull multiplied a hundred times over. In the course of a fraction of a second Spyro's world collapsed into a blinding torrent of agony, indescribable pain ripping through his very being. He collapsed to the ground as if the bones in his limbs had crumbled into dust, screaming and clutching at his head as he writhed on the floor. A sense of unfathomable anger filled his being, but it wasn't his own. It felt colder and infinitely more terrifying, almost like that of a god that stood ready to smother him at a whim for his rebellion. He couldn't breathe past the crushing agony, and bile rose to his throat. There was no relief, nothing but pain driving him to the brink of insanity.

Then, suddenly, the same voice from before sounded again, but this time he didn't hear it within his mind. This time, he could have sworn he heard it coming from beside him and over him, and all at once he got the distinct feeling that someone else was in the chamber with them that hadn't been there before.

"So, you continue to fight me."

The pain subsided marginally—which is to say by quite a large amount, though it was still only a fraction of the overall torment he felt. Still, it was enough that it was no longer entirely crippling, and blearily Spyro opened his eyes as he lay panting on the stone floor. He could see Cynder, Faren, Flash and Sparx a short distance away, apparently having been rushing toward him when he had fallen but then stopping suddenly. They were staring at something past him, looks of shock and unmistakable fear on their expressions.

Weakly he shifted his gaze until Nexus was in his frame of view, but when he caught sight of him he only became more confused, for the other purple dragon had climbed to his feet but wasn't facing Spyro. Instead he was facing in the same direction as his companions, and on his face was an expression of absolute dread. He was backing slowly away from something, looking as though he was truly fearing for his life in that moment. It was a look that he had never seen on Nexus's face before, and that unnerved him.

With dread rising within him, Spyro slowly turned his head toward whatever the other dragons were all looking at. A second later he faltered when a set of enormous feet came into sight, and slowly he tilted his gaze upward. Once he had he felt his breath catch in his throat, cold, numb terror sweeping through him.

There, standing before him and glaring down at him with a horrible expression of distaste and anger, was the largest dragon he had ever seen. And not just any dragon, but a _purple_ dragon.

He realized, though, that whoever this dragon was it didn't look like he was truly there. His body wasn't solid, looking more like some sort of ghostly apparition formed out of shadow and darkness, but his frightening features were still easily distinguishable. Rippling muscles lined his huge, imposing body, his dark purple scales marked with numerous old, silvery scars. Two viciously pointed, curved horns sprouted from his skull on either side of a jet black crest, two smaller ones poking out further down, and his spine was lined with razor-sharp spikes. A massive blade capped his tail, also pure black in colour, while no less than three thin, broad steel-grey blades lined the leading edge of each of his wings, along the first wing finger. His claws looked like they could slice clear through stone, and beneath his lip which was curled into a snarl Spyro saw fangs just as sharp. His eyes blazed a soul-chilling blood red, and his terrible gaze was directed straight at Spyro.

"M-Master," Nexus stammered weakly, still backing slowly away, his whole body curled in on itself defensively so that he looked like little more than a terrified hatchling. "Wh-what...How are you—"

"Silence!" the massive purple dragon apparition snapped, his deep, distorted voice causing the air to shudder and hammering against Spyro's ears, making him wince just as much from pain as fear. Then he turned his burning gaze back toward Spyro, and he shuddered violently.

"W-who..." he stammered weakly, his voice trembling under the weight of his fear as he gazed up at the imposing figure before him. "Who are you?"

The massive dragon gave a clipped snort, a grimace forming on his twisted muzzle, but at length he spoke in a deep, menacing tone that hid an edge of unfathomable malice and ruthlessness.

"In my time, when I walked the world, I was called Ragnor," the purple dragon told him coldly. "But you will know me as 'Master'."

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><p><strong>What? I never said the climax was only one chapter. X)<strong>

**What's going to happen to Spyro now? You're just going to have to wait and see.**

**Until next time...**


	34. Chapter 33

**I was going to make you wait longer for this, but I'm just too excited about it to delay posting it. I'm surprised I finished it this fast, but then again I'm not surprised, considering it's the climax. Oh, the suspense! The excitement! :D**

**Shorter chap this time, but that's because all the set-up was finished last chapter. Still in the 5-digit range, though, so there's plenty of senseless action here for you to enjoy.**

**Read on!**

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 33:<span>_

When it came right down to it, fighting for your life on the offensive felt surprisingly like fighting for your life on the defensive. The only difference, really, was that there was no underlying fear of your home being wiped out. Other than that it was the same noise, the same chaos, the same pain, and the same death.

A persistent scowl of grim distaste inhabited Sirius's features as he fought amongst the confused tangle of grublins, dragons, moles and cheetahs at the foot of the Well of Souls, the attacking army doing everything in their power to gain the advantage over their foes—while at the same time not pushing so hard that the grublins retreated back into the mountain. It didn't seem as though there was much cause for worry in that regard, though. The grublins were hurling themselves at the attackers with utter abandon, fighting as though to retreat would be just as life-threatening as to fight, even as they died by the hundreds.

The shrill screech of a charging grublin sounded just to his right, and Sirius looked toward the cry just in time to see one of the filthy creatures leaping straight for him with a sword angled downward to drive into his flank. Growling bitterly, he whipped his wing upward and flared it open, swatting the flat of the blade aside with the tough membrane of the wing before twisting and jabbing out with a forepaw, the large pad slamming straight into the grublin's ribcage with enough force to cave it in. The grublin was sent flying through the air, landing amongst a line of its own kind that were busy trying to form up so that they could engage the fire dragon as a unit. Sirius snarled challengingly, and they faltered for a brief moment.

A swell of aversion rose within him as, in the pause that followed in that moment, his eyes took in the crusted, dried blood that stained the ground and his scales, some of it his own, most of it not. Growing up in the middle of a raging war, he had hated it for the fear and uncertainty it had caused in his life and the lives of those around him. Now that he was fighting in one he hated it all the more. All this violence and death seemed pointless, wasteful, and he wished that he didn't have to have any part of it. He was _good_ at fighting, but that didn't mean he liked it even remotely.

The line of grublins, around seven of them in all, seemed to finally gather up their courage and charged, fanning out as much as they could amongst the crowded bodies surrounding them and trying to catch Sirius between them. Sirius was more than ready for them, and with a defiant roar he jerked his head forward and spat out a column of blazing red flames that halted the grublins' charge in its tracks.

His jaw gritted in concentration, Sirius reared up and swept a forepaw in a wide arc in front of him, seizing control of the flames he had created and directing them into the form he willed them to be. The fire twisted and flowed, sweeping over the grublins before they could escape and consuming them. Over the roar of the flames he could hear them screaming, and the sound caused a brief twinge of bitterness and nausea deep within him, but he didn't allow his fire to slacken until he was sure the grublins were dead. Then he relaxed his hold over them and allowed them to dissipate. Immediately he cast his gaze around the battlefield that stretched out as far as his eyes could see all around him, searching for another target of opportunity.

A commotion a few dozen metres away to his left caught his eye, and quickly making up his mind he charged toward it, scattering grublins in his path with waves of fire from his jaws. As he ran he tried to block out the sounds that echoed across the foothills around the Well of Souls; the tearing of talons and swords through flesh, the cries of the wounded and the piercing roars of dying dragons.

The struggle that had caught his attention came into unobstructed view as he jumped clear of a line of moles rushing to another position on the battlefield. Ahead of him Sirius could now see a cluster of moles and a couple of cheetahs that had been cornered atop a hillock. They were surrounded by an eager crowd of grublins that were trying to swarm the beleaguered defenders. Amongst their numbers Sirius quickly caught sight of Mason right on the front lines, swinging his heavy sword of steel and felling any grublins that dared wander within his reach, shouting orders and encouragement to his fellow mole guards all the while. In the centre of the group Sirius spotted Hunter, the cheetah perched atop a small mound of stone and releasing arrow after arrow into the grublin ranks, thinning their numbers one by one.

"Stand firm!" Mason shouted as the lines of grublins suddenly surged forward, trying to overpower their stubborn foes. "Hold the lines, and keep together! We can hold them back as long as they don't break our ranks! Stand firm!"

To their credit, the moles and cheetahs did just that, hardly flinching even as the vastly superior numbers of the grublins bore down on them. However, even their unflappable determination couldn't help them in such odds. They needed assistance, and fast.

Jaw set in determination, Sirius shot his wings out to his sides and leapt into the air, despite the fact that in doing so he was inviting any grublin bowman within a hundred metres to riddle him full of arrows. A second later he sucked in a huge breath before spewing out a dozen angry fireballs from his jaws, the cluster of flaming shots spreading out in an arc in front of him before streaking down one by one toward the earth, guided by his powers.

They impacted right along the leading edge of the charging grublins, along the side of the ring that was pushing forward the most aggressively, and over a score of grublins were reduced to ash as the rippling explosions of fire swept over them, and several more were hurled, squealing, through the air. The other nearby grublins fell back in fear in the face of the roiling fireballs, and in this opening Sirius streaked down to the earth and landed heavily ahead of the line of moles, moving back to join their defensive line when they made room.

"Ah, young Master Sirius," Mason called out when Sirius took up his position among the guards, sounding unmistakeably pleased. "Excellent timing. Those grublins were giving us quite a lot of trouble."

"I see that," Sirius replied, glancing around quickly and noticing that several wounded moles had been pulled back to the top of the hillock behind the cover of their companions. A cheetah who looked to be some sort of healer was crouching amongst them, trying to staunch the bleeding in their wounds as best as he could while his tribesmen helped Hunter keep as many of the grublins at bay as they could with their bows. "And it looks like they aren't done."

"Indeed not," the mole captain grunted in agreement. "I don't suppose you have any other dragon friends on hand to help out here?"

"I'm afraid not."

Mason grunted again. "Then it looks like we're going to have to hold out on our own. Look out, here they come again!"

As though on cue the ring of grublins charged forward, swinging their weapons madly in front of them. As one of the grublins charged him, Sirius was forced to rear up onto his hind legs to avoid a swipe from its sword before he brought his paw smashing down in retaliation. The grublin stood no chance of avoiding his attack. The red dragon's forepaw came down directly on top of it, knocking it onto its back, and Sirius tried not to acknowledge the feeling of bones crunching beneath his paw as the grublin's chest collapsed. He winced when an agonized shriek sounded just to his right, a mole run through by a grublin's blade, and boiling anger flared within him at the sight of a fellow Warfangian dying at the hands of these disgusting creatures.

He lashed out with his wing, catching the grublin in the head. The barb on the tip of his folded wing cut a thin but deep gash in the grublin's cheek, but that was the least of its worries considering that the blow also snapped its neck. As this newly-dispatched foe was sent flying back through the air Sirius spun to his left and rocked his head up, catching another grublin in the chest with his horns and throwing it back as well. He stifled a snarl of pain when a blade glanced off his foreleg just below his wounded shoulder—which was devoid of its bandage, since he'd ripped it off when he found it got in his way—and lashed out in response at his attacker, his talons tearing through its abdomen and spraying blood across the dirt and the grass. Still they kept coming, a relentless tide that wouldn't be broken.

Roaring with anger and frustration, Sirius broke ranks despite Mason's continuing shouts to do just the opposite, surrounding himself in a wall of flames at the same time as he barrelled into the line of grublins ahead. The creatures scattered, squealing in alarm from the fire, but by then it was too late for them to escape.

Rearing up, Sirius spread his wings wide, causing his veil of flames to expand rapidly outward and throwing those grublins closest to him back through the air. Then, twisting and turning, he manipulated the flames and caused them to swirl and wash over his enemies, directing the almost living fires with sweeps of his paws and wings, the series of motions almost looking like a form of strange dance that was deceptively graceful in the light of the raging inferno it controlled, waves of pure flame surrounding him on all sides and burning hungrily through anything they touched.

In only a few short moments Sirius had opened up a large swath of ground, breaking the grublins' advance on that side and forcing them to retreat lest they be scorched as well by the fires that had just claimed another dozen of their numbers, and in this pause Sirius released his fire again and sank back to the earth. He retreated back to the line of moles, hiding his rapidly-growing weariness as a result of using so much power so quickly. Thanks to his training his endurance was greater than that of many other dragons, but he still had limits and this battle was quickly pushing him to them.

Ever stubborn, the grublins quickly formed back up into ranks when Sirius ceased his attack on them, and the fire dragon braced himself for another clash as they readied themselves to charge, but just at that moment the battle was interrupted when another explosion of fire burst up from the earth in the midst of the concentration of grublins, scattering their scorched, smoking forms through the air. Sirius faltered but quickly felt excitement filling him when he recognized the distinct style of the attack.

A terrible roar momentarily overpowered the surrounding clash of battle, and a second later Sirius saw another bright red fire dragon rear up behind the ring of grublins, his paws covered in swirling sheets of flame. Pyruth charged straight into the grublin ranks, geysers of fire shooting out through the ground every time one of his blazing paws slammed into the earth, each blast succeeding in launching more grublins into the air. Caught unprepared by the guard's flanking attack, the grublins quickly broke ranks and fled toward the north, abandoning their attack on the beleaguered moles and cheetahs as they fled for their lives.

They didn't get far. A few seconds after Pyruth began his rampage the fleeing grublins suddenly ran full-tilt into a wall of stone, thick slabs and jagged spikes exploding up in their path and sending dozens of broken bodies sailing back toward the inferno that Pyruth was creating. A second later the bloodied barricade exploded into pieces as another easily recognizable dragon charged straight through it, his body coated in brightly growing green energy that allowed him to punch through the stone before him with ease. Then, with just as much ferocity as Pyruth had displayed, Raulk launched his own assault, tearing through the grublins with his talons and scattering their ranks with earth missiles or pillars of earth that came bursting up from the ground.

Sirius found himself caught in a mild state of awe as the two hulking guards dealt out their punishment, displaying their mastery in their craft of carnage that they had acquired over decades of fighting in the war against Malefor's apes. As the two dragons fought, captain and former captain, Sirius almost thought that this entire combined flanking manoeuvre was just them trying to outdo each other, rival guards determined to prove their superior strength. With Pyruth he wasn't surprised; living in the eastern city, he had come to know the Captain of the Guard to be one who enjoyed his work, always looking for a challenge, but Raulk had struck him as a much more level-headed type. Apparently in the heat of combat he became an entirely different beast, however.

Caught between the two rampaging guards, the grublins lost all semblance of order and scattered, desperate to escape the reach of the dragons before they became another victim of their considerable power. Their lines broke, finally granting the moles and cheetahs a respite from their own miniature siege. Once the grublins had fled and any that still lingered behind to fight were promptly dispatched, Pyruth and Raulk straightened and turned to face each other.

"Not bad," Pyruth grunted, surveying the scars that the earth dragon's attacks had opened in the stone and soil around them. "For a mole's subordinate."

Raulk gave a snort of laughter. "I think you're just jealous that you were playing catch up the entire time."

This time it was Pyruth's turn to snort. "Keep telling yourself that." Then he turned his gaze until it settled on Sirius, who was watching the guards' exchanged in amusement. "Are you alright, Master Sirius? I know that Elder Tythos would be quite upset if one of these damned bugs managed to get you like they did in that last battle."

Sirius glanced toward the barely-sealed gash in his shoulder before turning his gaze back up to the guard and nodding.

"I'm fine. But it's a good thing you two showed up when you did, I think."

Pyruth uttered a gruff grunt and nodded. In the following pause, Raulk stepped up to address Mason.

"Captain, the grublins' resistance is breaking," he declared. "They can't hold up under our assault. I estimate that within the next hour the tides of this battle will have settled decisively in our favour. They won't last much longer."

"Very good," Mason said with an approving nod. "Keep up the pressure."

"Yes sir," the large earth dragon nodded sharply.

Without a moment's delay Raulk turned about and, after shooting a brief, challenging grin out of the corner of his eye at Pyruth, charged off into the fray once more. The fire dragon gave a deep growl and immediately took off running after him, blood running hot and eager for his next challenge.

"As for the rest of us, let's get these wounded back behind the main lines!" the mole captain continued, turning to the others of his kind. "Let's move, before the grublins cut us off again!"

The guards hastened to obey, working in pairs or more to lift the wounded moles off the ground and either supporting them by bracing their arms over their shoulders or otherwise hoisting them up to be carried back out of danger. Hunter and the other cheetahs kept their bows ready during this time, covering their retreat, and Sirius likewise kept on alert, watching for any attempts by the grublins to cut off their escape. But soon enough they were moving, and only a couple of minutes later they had managed to reach relative safety as they broke away from the fighting and emerged in a quieter patch of earth where several dragons and moles were regrouping, including Terrador and Volteer.

"The battle is progressing well," Terrador rumbled as Sirius, Mason and Hunter moved over to join them while the other moles and cheetahs got the wounded settled. "It seems we managed to catch the grublins in a vulnerable state."

"Indeed, indeed," Volteer said eagerly, bobbing his head sharply. "It looks as though our young Spyro was right all along in his arguments to maintain our pressure on the grublins after the battle in the mountains, so that we might hold on to our momentum and the initiative in this conflict."

Terrador nodded in agreement. However he said nothing more in reply. Instead, at the mention of Spyro, all eyes had turned up toward the broken summit of the mountain before them, which appeared deceptively calm and still above the battle raging below it.

"I wonder how he's faring," Hunter said after a pause, giving voice to the worried thought that was on everyone's minds in that moment.

"It's impossible to tell for now," Terrador sighed. "All we can do is maintain hope that he and his friends can handle whatever adversity they've encountered, and pray that they return safely to us once this is all over."

There were a number of tense nods of agreements, but no one else spoke. Inside, Sirius felt a rapidly-mounting sense of worry clawing at his gut as he thought about his sister in that mountain, trying not to imagine what trials she must have been facing as she battled against a foe greater than any that any of the dragons, moles and cheetahs below had fought before.

Suddenly, over the sounds of the fighting, a deep and ominous rumble sounded out from high over their heads, and for a brief moment all fighting ceased as every mole, cheetah, dragon and grublin turned their gazes up toward the mountain looming over them. A second later the rumble came again, but this time much more pronounced, and Sirius felt his breath catch in his throat in surprise and alarm when the summit of the mountain seemed to shudder and a plume of dust rose into the air, a pronounced tremor rattling the earth under their feet at the same time.

"By the Acestors, what was that?" Mason exclaimed.

"It looked like some sort of collapse," Terrador replied, worry etched across his features as he stared up at the dispersing dust cloud.

Another rumble, louder than any of the ones before, suddenly echoed out over the surrounding peaks, and a pillar of dust and debris surged into the sky as, without any warning at all, the entire ruined peak of the Well of Souls gave out and collapsed in a cascade of stone rubble. In the valley below the various combatants scattered with cries of alarm as hunks of broken stone and rock rained down toward them, but Sirius could only watch in stunned silence as a feeling of gut-wrenching fear and worry exploded through him.

_Faren!_

***.*.***

The fear he felt in that moment was unlike anything he could remember. The mere presence of this seemingly insubstantial apparition of a purple dragon—_another_ purple dragon!—was enough to instill an unparalleled feeling of dread inside of him. His imposing figure simply screamed power, and that in combination with Spyro's experience of this 'Ragnor's' ability to reach into the confines of his mind and cause him indescribable pain at will was enough to rob him of all courage and convince him that this was a foe he did _not _want to find himself up against now.

"I have to say I'm disappointed, Spyro," Ragnor rumbled darkly, and his horrible, chilling voice caused a fierce tremor to run through the smaller purple dragon's body as he still lay sprawled out on the ground. "I had thought that I had made the situation abundantly clear. We both wanted Nexus disposed of, and this task was an essential one that I expected you to carry through to completion. But you still insist on being difficult."

Those last words came out as a harsh growl that immediately caused Spyro to cringe fearfully, waiting for a fresh bolt of agony to rip through his skull. None came, but that didn't make him feel remotely better. For the moment he was spared any further torment, however, and with a deep scowl on his dark features Ragnor instead turned his gaze on Nexus, his expression twisting into one of disgust.

"And as for you..."

Spyro saw Nexus shrink back, a look of terror flashing across his face, clearly deeply afraid of whatever this dragon he called his master would say next. It seemed as though his fears were well founded too, for there was no mistaking the anger that blazed in Ragnor's terrible red eyes.

"I thought you understood that failure was not something I was willing to permit again," he growled threateningly, his voice rattling the air as though from an earthquake.

"Master, wait," Nexus stammered, sounding more feeble and afraid than Spyro had ever pictured he would. "I had him. I—"

"Yes, you did!" Ragnor thundered furiously, cutting him off. "You had him, and you let him get away from you! Like some incompetent _amateur_, you let him slip out from your paws!"

"It wasn't my fault!" Nexus pleaded. "If it weren't for—"

A terrible, ear-splitting roar rent the air within the chamber, causing Spyro to jolt violently and immediately cover his ears, gritting his fangs and clamping his eyes shut as he attempted to escape the pounding noise.

"Don't insult me with your excuses! As far as I'm concerned, there is _nothing_ that justifies allowing a foe to escape you like _that_! From a simple, pathetic lapse of focus! Have I taught you _nothing_? After this, you are hardly even worth the effort it would take to kill you where you stand!"

Nexus seemed to wilt even further under the disgusted glare of his master. He turned his head away, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth tightly, as though expecting to be struck down at any instant.

"However..."

That word seemed to catch Nexus off guard, and a thoroughly confused look flashed across his face as he turned a questioning, hesitant look up at the larger dragon apparition.

"It seems as though, despite your grievous failings, your colleague here has seen fit to grant you another chance."

He turned his piercing gaze on Spyro at these words, and the young purple dragon immediately shrank in on himself, trembling slightly under the look of his hard eyes.

"It appears that Spyro is unwilling to deliver your punishment for failing me, and so now you have one last chance to salvage this situation, Nexus. Prove that your loyalty is still strong, and that you are deserving of being given another chance."

Nexus still appeared confused, as though he wasn't sure if he should believe what he was being told, but at length he managed to say, hesitantly, "What do you want me to do?"

Ragnor glanced briefly toward him before shifted his gaze to Spyro again, and when he did Spyro felt an icy grip of fear in his chest when he saw the cold, ominous look in those already-frightening eyes.

"Kill him."

Cold horror constricted his throat, and Spyro turned wide, fearful eyes on Nexus. The other purple dragon looked completely caught off guard by that order, and he gazed back at Spyro with a startled, uncertain look. Off to the side Spyro could see out of the corner of his eye that Cynder and his friends also looked horrified by those words, but with Ragnor's enormous figure towering before them they were all frozen with fear and uncertainty, not knowing what to do.

Nexus gazed back up confusedly at his master.

"What?" he managed to say. "Kill him? But that wasn't the mission. I was just supposed to bring him back. You never said anything about killing him!"

"Missions change," Ragnor growled darkly in reply. "He's proven himself to be a lost cause, resisting to the point of death. He can be of no use to me, and therefore he cannot be allowed to continue living."

Another surge of horror and gut-wrenching fear shot through him, and with a mounting feeling of desperation Spyro tried to force his limbs to obey him so that he might escape, or at least fight back, but the pain in his skull throbbed again and caused him to collapse back down onto the ground with a weak gasp.

"You have a final chance before you, Nexus," Ragnor said impatiently. It was all too clear that he could kill Spyro whenever he wanted just from the grip he had on his mind, but this was a test that he was waiting to see if Nexus would pass. "If you have any sense, you will not squander it. Do it."

Nexus hesitated, a look of surprising conflict in his eyes as he gazed uncertainly over at Spyro, laying sprawled out and vulnerable upon the stone ground. All Spyro could do was stare helplessly up at him, waiting for the death blow to come. Even his friends couldn't help him, faced with two other purple dragons standing against them.

"But..." Nexus said indecisively, and the look of conflict in his eyes intensified, causing Spyro to falter in confusion. "He's my brother."

"He is a traitor to his kind," Ragnor snarled firmly in reply. "Are you as well, Nexus? Or are you willing to do what is necessary to ensure your own survival? That's what you have always done, is it not?"

Nexus faltered, and as Spyro watched him grappling with himself he could feel an odd sensation of confusion sweeping through him. Was Nexus actually unwilling to strike the final blow, after everything he had already done? It was something he couldn't comprehend, for it seemed to contradict everything Spyro had seen of Nexus already. How could a dragon who had committed such horrible deeds also feel this conflicted about ending a single life? Did the fact that they were brothers really change things that much?

"My patience runs thin, Nexus," Ragnor growled in warning. "Kill him now."

Nexus's gaze locked with Spyro, turmoil meeting fear, and for several long seconds they remained frozen there as Nexus struggled with the conflict between his master's orders and his natural bond to his brother. But then, slowly, it seemed as though Spyro's fear struck some kind of a chord within him, and gradually the look of uncertainty in his eyes was replaced by a hard glare of defiance and determination. Slowly he turned his head to meet the gaze of his master, his face turning into a harsh scowl. A tense silence descended over the chamber, everyone waiting anxiously.

Then Nexus spoke a single word, but it was a word that Spyro had never been expecting to hear.

"No."

Surprise flashed briefly across Ragnor's expression, while Spyro himself was utterly dumbstruck. But there was no mistaking the word Nexus had spoken, nor the look in his eye. No matter how contradictory and unbelievable it seemed, taking the life of his brother was something he refused to do.

Ragnor's blazing red eyes narrowed into menacing slits, a snarl of fury slowly stretching across his muzzle, and at this sight Spyro felt a growing sense of dread within him. Nexus's own defiance also seemed to waver, but only for a moment.

"Fine then," the massive purple dragon growled quietly. "You're decision is made."

In a motion that was too fast for the eye to follow, Ragnor swung a massive forepaw around straight for Nexus, who had no hope of moving out of the way in time. While Ragnor may have appeared as only an insubstantial spectre of a dragon standing before them, apparently the blow he delivered was solid enough, for the paw slammed into Nexus with crushing force and sent him sailing limply through the air. He crashed hard into the wall clear across the rough stone chamber with an impact that seemed to shake the room.

"You are both pathetic," Ragnor snarled in disgust, and Spyro felt dread and terror crash over him when the ghostly purple dragon turned his murderous snarl toward him. Then he raised his forepaw again, steel-grey talons poised to sever his body where he lay.

"Spyro!" Cynder screamed suddenly, and Ragnor and Spyro both whipped their gazes around to see the black dragoness, along with Faren and Flash, sprinting toward him as fast as their legs would carry them, desperate to reach him before it was too late.

A flash of violet light filled the chamber, and Spyro jolted when a massive beam of convexity crashed into the earth directly in the path of the three dragons. The explosion of dark energy obscured them all from view for a moment, but a second later Spyro gasped weakly when he saw their limp forms thrown back through the air, crashing into ragged heaps on the ground, unmoving.

The sound of a breath being taken behind him seized his attention, and Spyro whipped his gaze around in time to see Ragnor standing over him, his jaws crackling with ominous violet bolts of convexity. Spyro struggled frantically to rise, and for just a split-second he actually felt the grip on his mind waver as his frantic thoughts and will to survive hammered against it, but just as quickly the pressure clamped down on his thoughts again, immobilizing him. Then Ragnor's jaws opened wide, and Spyro cringed and shut his eyes tightly as he waited for the beam of convexity to rip him apart.

The sound of Ragnor releasing his charged beam of energy crashed over him, but just at that instant there was another flash and a second, smaller beam lanced through the air and intercepted the large purple dragon's attack. The opposing energies instantly combusted, creating a terrible explosion that shook the mountain. Ragnor roared in surprise and pain as the blast washed over him, and Spyro ducked under his wings in a futile attempt to escape the battering force of the explosion as it hammered his body, his ears ringing painfully from the volume of the explosion from so close.

Then, without warning, everything became still. For no apparent reason the crushing hold that Ragnor had been exerting on his mind vanished, but Spyro didn't have time to feel relieved because at the same time something crashed into his left side, knocking him several feet along the ground and away from Ragnor. Dazed by the hit, Spyro was only just able to begin regaining his senses when he was suddenly grabbed by the horn and his head was yanked around.

He immediately found himself face to face with Nexus, and Spyro bolted back in shock and alarm when he saw the other purple dragon's hard eyes boring into his own. A look of grim determination was on his face, and vaguely Spyro noticed that he had a cut on the side of his head from where the scales and skin had been broken by the blow Ragnor had delivered. All in all the sight unnerved him tremendously, but before he could even think about fighting Nexus spoke.

"Do you want to live?" he asked sharply.

Spyro blinked a couple of times in confusion, his dazed mind still trying to make sense of everything that had happened in the last second. He finally realized that the silence was because Nexus had pulled him into Dragon Time with him, apparently to give them a few seconds in which to speak.

He faltered suddenly. That meant that _Nexus_ was the one that had just saved him from being killed by Ragnor's convexity beam.

_Nexus_ had just saved his _life_.

But why?

"Hey!" Nexus snapped when Spyro didn't answer him, shaking him roughly with a forepaw that was gripping his shoulder. "I can't keep this up forever! Do you want to live or not?"

Though his confusion was still great, Spyro managed to nod his head.

"So do I," Nexus grunted, his expression hard. "So we have a common goal, and a common enemy. Do you get what I'm saying?"

A feeling of surprise flashed though Spyro as he finally grasped what his counterpart meant. Was Nexus really suggesting that they work _together_ to fight Ragnor, when only moments before they had been trying to tear each other apart? But then suddenly the pieces fell into place; Nexus must have realized that alone he stood no chance against Ragnor's obvious might. That was why he had saved Spyro; to gain a temporary ally in the interest of self-preservation.

_That_ made a lot more sense.

_It's not like there are any other options,_ he thought grimly.

Though still feeling a bit uncertain and more than a little wary, Spyro nodded his head again.

"Good," Nexus growled before roughly dragging Spyro up to his feet. "Then get your tail in gear and _move_!"

Spyro yelped when Nexus suddenly shoved him backward, and there was a brief second of severe disorientation when the world abruptly resumed moving as normal, the effects of Nexus's Dragon Time fading quickly away when the contact between them was broken. He tried to get his bearings as quickly as he could, and he saw that Ragnor was just now recovering from the blast of convexity. Only a second later his murderous gaze locked on Spyro again, though, and he felt his blood turn to ice when those furious slits for eyes sliced through him.

A swirling ball of dark purple energy suddenly shot through the air before exploding with a thunderous roar, and Ragnor uttered a bellow of surprise and rage as his head was snapped to the side by the blast. He immediately whipped his gaze around, and Spyro looked too to see Nexus farther out in the chamber, dashing away just as a retaliatory beam of energy slammed into the floor where he had just been standing.

Realizing that there was absolutely no time to waste, Spyro leapt into action. Nexus wouldn't be able to hold out against Ragnor for long on his own, meaning he only had a few critical seconds before he had to get into the fight. He cast his gaze around and it soon fell upon a dark form sprawled out on the ground. Urgency flooded through him and he sprinted over as fast as his legs would carry him, using his own Dragon Time to buy just a few instants of extra time.

"Cynder!" he called anxiously as he reached the still dragoness's form.

She didn't stir at his call, and with a mounting sense of worry he placed a paw on her shoulder and shook. Only a second later she uttered a low groan and opened her eyes blearily.

"Cynder, are you alright?" Spyro asked insistently.

Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice, and as soon as her gaze fell upon him her eyes widened with surprise before relief swept across her features.

"Oh, thank the Ancestors," she gasped heavily when she saw that he was unharmed. "Yes, I'm alright."

Relief surged through him, but the urgency of the situation overrode it immediately.

"Listen, there's no time. I need you to check on the others and get into position to support us while we hold Ragnor's attention."

"We?" Cynder repeated, perplexed. She leaned her head over to see past Spyro, and she faltered in confusion when she saw Nexus scrambling to keep ahead of Ragnor's furious attacks. "What—"

"Don't ask, because I don't know either," Spyro grunted. "It's help. Now come on, we have to move!"

Shaking off her surprise, Cynder nodded before scrambling to her feet, slightly unsteadily, and dashing off toward the spot where Faren was lying. At the same time Spyro turned his attention back to the battle raging in the middle of the chamber. Nexus was now dodging madly in a near-desperate attempt to avoid the veritable hailstorm of elemental death that Ragnor was shooting out at him. Fire bombs, shards of ice, earth missiles and spikes of stone bursting up from the floor, bolts of electricity as intense as lightning, globs of venom and waves of shadow fire burst from his jaws, his body, and even seemingly randomly from the air at times, as well as frequent blasts of convexity. Nexus obviously needed help, and he needed it now.

Pushing aside the knowledge that he was about to assist his enemy, Spyro drew in a deep breath and shot out the strongest beam of convexity he could manage.

His aim was true, and the beam slammed straight into the back of Ragor's head just as he was about to shoot out the largest earth missile Spyro had ever seen at Nexus. The shot went wide, impacting the wall of the chamber, and Spyro gave a startled cry as the entire room lurched violently from the force of the impact, a heavy tremor running through the mountain's foundation. It felt as though the entire mountain was about to collapse, but thankfully this didn't occur.

Ragnor, meanwhile, turned his head around and fixed Spyro with the most terrifying snarl of fury he could have imagined, and he immediately shrank back in fear. To make matters worse, he realized that Ragnor looked to be completely unscathed by the convexity attack he had just taken to the head, although it should have been more than strong enough to kill any dragon instantly. There wasn't a mark on his scales, and while it had clearly hurt him it seemed that the only lasting effect was to make him even angrier than before.

_He's not really here_, Spyro realized suddenly. _The attack hurt him, but since this is just an apparition he can't really be injured._

A feeling of dread and helplessness seeped through him. How were they going to defeat an enemy that couldn't be wounded?

Terror exploded through him when Ragnor opened his jaws and the angry red glow of flames appeared in his throat. But just before he unleashed his attack a hail of small fireballs peppered his right flank and the side of his neck, causing him to rear back with a startled roar. Then, while Faren's attack had their foe off balance, Cynder suddenly appeared out of the ground amidst a plume of shadows directly at his feet and surged into the air. She immediately spun sharply about and brought her tail up. The glinting blade on its tip lashed through the air as little more than a bright silvery blur, right for Ragnor's thick, exposed neck...

...and then passed right through it.

Caught unprepared by the utter lack of resistance during her blow, Cynder teetered in the air and almost lost her balance but managed to catch herself, hovering with a shocked expression on her face as she looked at the point where her tail had struck. There wasn't even a scratch. Instead, the shadowy substance that made up Ragnor's apparition simply parted and reformed like mist. A vile smirk appeared on the great purple dragon's face, and his eyes fell upon Cynder hovering before him.

Cynder barely managed to twist out of the way in time as Ragnor shot his jaws forward and snapped them shut with a reverberating _clack_, coming within inches of severing her wing from her body. He drew back to strike again, but at that moment Spyro leapt forward and unleashed a chain of electricity from his jaws, the crackling bolts dancing along the length of Ragnor's body. He uttered a snarl of pain, but almost immediately a pulse of his own electrical element erupted from his body and surged back along the trail of Spyro's attack, forcing it back toward him. Spyro barely had time to give a grunt of surprise before the charged stream of electricity struck him, tearing through his body and causing him to roar in pain before dropping to the ground.

Snarling furiously at seeing him get hit, Cynder unleashed a focussed jet of her wind element straight for Ragnor's throat, but the massive dragon's body simply parted like fog again around the attack before reforming. He lashed out with his talons, and Cynder gave a jolting grunt as the purple dragon's massive paw slammed into her, his razor-sharp talons cutting a thin line through the scales of her shoulder. The blow sent her flying back through the air, crashing into Faren a moment later and sending both dragonesses tumbling in a tangle of limbs.

Three concentrated orbs of convexity suddenly rained down on Ragnor from behind, and the violent explosions of energy momentarily obscured the huge dragon from view, leaving only his roar of pain and rage audible over the explosive rumble. Nexus appeared a second later, landing a few feet away and charging up an orb of electricity between his jaws, but before he could unleash it a tremendous gust of wind suddenly crashed over him, picking him up and hurling him back through the chamber. He struck the wall hard but managed to kick off with his paws unharmed, but as soon as he hit the ground he was forced to dodge as an earth missile went screaming past his head.

Having regained his breath by that point, Spyro charged forward and shot out a pair of earth missiles just as Ragnor emerged from the cloud of residual convexity, but like Cynder's wind they just went right through him, passing through his chest without even the slightest effect. Snarling with frustration, Spyro tried electricity instead and spat out a glowing orb of concentrated current. Before it could detonate, though, Ragnor spun around and lashed out with his wing, striking the orb and deflecting it back away from him—straight for Nexus.

Without pausing to think, Spyro tapped into his Dragon Time and lunged for Nexus as fast as he could, knocking him out of the way of the electricity orb just before it hit him. The explosion of electricity came within inches of striking him as he and the other purple dragon rolled away from their collision, but neither of them were harmed. Spyro rolled back up to his feet immediately, but as soon as he had his eyes bugged out in fear when he saw a glob of poison streaking right for his face.

He yelped in surprise as his legs were suddenly swept out from underneath him, and he fell to the ground just instants before the venom struck him, the liquid ball splattering instead against the wall of the chamber. A beam of convexity from Nexus managed to stagger Ragnor for just a moment, and in that time he dragged Spyro to his feet and shoved him away.

"Just focus on watching out for yourself!" he snapped. "I can handle myself. Just keep up the pressure!"

Spyro gave a slight scowl, tempted to make some sort of retort about just letting him get hit next time, but he realized that now wasn't the time—especially since Ragnor's bladed wing was slicing right for his neck. He hastily flattened himself against the ground, wincing when he felt the strong rush of air that indicated that the strike had missed him by barely a few inches, and immediately afterwards he was forced to roll hard to his left as the massive dark dragon followed through with his other wing, then again with the first. Despite his bulk he was able to twirl and slice like a cheetah that had mastered the sword, slashing with his wings like Spyro had seen no dragon do before, and Spyro could feel fear clenching in his throat when he found himself madly dodging and backpedaling just to stay a few inches ahead of his attacker's relentless assault, bladed wings splitting the air and cutting deep gouges in the stone floor and walls.

Then the unthinkable happened. As he was ducking under another swing of Ragnor's wing at the same time that the massive dragon deflected an incoming fireball with his other wing, Spyro felt horror explode through him when he felt his rear left paw catch a lip in the stone floor. Before he could catch himself he half-stumbled to the floor, instantly finding himself in a terribly vulnerable position. He could only stare up helplessly as Ragnor raised his right wing high and brought it swiping downward, the line of three savage blades slicing through the air and ready to rend his head from his shoulders. A horrible, bloody grin twisted the massive dragon's features, dark eagerness gleaming in his eyes.

"Spyro!" a frantic voice suddenly shouted, and a split second later there was a blinding flash of light as a narrow white beam lanced through the chamber, striking Ragnor on the right shoulder just below his wing joint.

Like the earth missiles and wind blasts that had been used on him before, the beam of light passed straight through Ragnor's shadowy, insubstantial form. However, unlike those other attacks, this time it had far more effect. Ragnor immediately jolted backward and unleashed a bellowing roar of pain as the beam of light seared through his ghostly body, which appeared as though it was made mostly of shadow from this close. The blinding white glare seemed to scatter the shadowy haze, causing Ragnor's apparition to waver for just a split-second.

Spyro wasn't the only one who saw this, either.

"Do that again!" Nexus shouted from farther into the chamber, gazing over at Flash with a look of sudden eagerness in his eyes.

Flash hesitated, appearing uncertain about following an instruction from someone who was their enemy, and he quickly turned toward Spyro for some sort of confirmation. Spyro, however, realized that they didn't have any time to waste in that moment.

"Just do it!" he called insistently.

Still looking somewhat unsure, Flash nonetheless cracked his jaws open wide and expelled another powerful beam of light. This one passed straight through Ragnor's chest, momentarily blowing a hole clear through his spectral form, and this earned another sharp roar of pain.

"Keep it up!" Nexus urged him sharply, at the same time skirting rapidly around to the side into position to attack from the flank. "Don't stop for anything!"

Flash obeyed, firing out beam after beam of light at as rapid a rate as he could manage, fighting past the mounting weariness that the prolonged use of his strong but draining element was causing. Nexus added frequent beams of convexity to the mix, constantly on the move as though wary of any sudden counter-attack.

Spyro watched as though in a daze for a moment as Ragnor's ghostly body was ravaged by the constant attacks, roaring and thrashing violently as he was struck over and over. In this pause he caught sight of Cynder and Faren farther to his left, also watching the scene, and briefly his eyes locked with Cynder's. Only a few seconds later, though, a look of hard, firm determination appeared on both their faces at the same time. Surging back up to his feet, Spyro let loose a blazing beam of violet energy to accompany the attacks of Flash and Nexus. Just as quickly Cynder joined in with her own convexity, and only a second later Faren began raining fireballs down on their foe from a distance.

Though his enormous power was unquestionable, it seemed that even Ragnor couldn't stand up to this kind of onslaught as he was repeatedly pounded by convexity, light and fire. He had backed nearly to the far side of the chamber, retreating under the unending assault. By now the elemental attacks were ravaging his ghostly form so rapidly that it couldn't reform fast enough, and like a cloud before a windstorm his body seemed to just break apart and collapse in on itself, losing all distinguishable form. Still, the group of five dragons didn't stop their attacks.

Spyro was just beginning to allow himself to believe that they had won, but barely an instant later he faltered when he felt a sudden tremor through the floor. It was faint at first, but gradually it began growing in intensity until the very air seemed to be vibrating. A feeling of deep foreboding rose within him, and he paused for a moment from his attacks as he wondered what was happening. He exchanged glances with his friends, and even a short one with Nexus, and in all their faces he could see the same wariness.

"What's happening?" Sparx asked anxiously from his vantage point just beyond the threshold of the doorway through which they had all entered.

No one had any answer, but it was obvious enough that whatever it was, it was nothing good. On the other side of the chamber the writhing mass of shadow and darkness that had been Ragnor just moments before was beginning to twist and lash about with much more intensity, smoky tendrils tearing at the air and growing larger with every second that passed. Spyro wasn't sure, but they seemed to be growing darker as well, looking more like pure shadow with every passing moment. The trembling and rumbling in the air reached a peak, and Spyro felt like the shaking was going to rattle him into pieces at any moment from the intensity.

Then, for no reason that he could fathom, everything suddenly went still.

"Oh, not good!" Nexus shouted a split-second later, and Spyro turned a puzzled yet fearful glance in his direction to see the other purple dragon diving for the ground, ducking his head under the cover of his wings.

He didn't get a chance to inquire as to what it was that had caused Nexus's alarm, for at that moment a terrible, deafening roar suddenly tore through the entire chamber. On the far end of the room Ragnor suddenly surged up out of the mass of shadow and darkness, his body fully reformed, spreading his wings wide to their full, staggering span. The shadowy mass swirled violently around him, darkening to a pitch black in hue, and suddenly Spyro felt his eyes go wide in dismay when he recognized what was happening. By then, it was too late to do anything but brace himself.

The shadow fury that Ragnor unleashed was terrible in its power, and if Spyro or any of his friends had been standing even just a couple of feet closer they would have been blasted apart by its force in an instant. As it was they were far enough away to survive, but they were still all launched through the air at tremendous speeds. Spyro's world spun crazily for a brief moment as pain hammered against his body from all sides. Then he felt himself strike something extremely hard and solid and a fresh jolt of pain tore through him, the impact coming within inches of knocking him unconscious.

Limply he slid down the wall and collapsed into a heap on the floor, struggling to clear the stars from his vision and gritting his teeth against the burning pain that filled his being, feeling like every inch of his body was broken. With a great deal of difficulty he managed to force his eyes open. As soon as he had, a fresh wave of terror surged through him.

Ragnor was upon him before he could even move a muscle, and Spyro grunted in pain as the massive dragon's not solid and yet very solid paw slammed into him from the side, launching him once more through the air. He hit the ground hard and rolled, wincing as his wing was twisted in the tumble, spraining the shoulder joint. Then, finally, he tumbled to a stop, and for several seconds he was unable to do anything more than lie there, groaning weakly.

The world around him had already descended into chaos during that span. The crash and thunder of elemental attacks of all types echoed painfully around the chamber, and over this commotion Spyro was acutely aware of his friends crying out in fear and pain as they suddenly found themselves on the defensive against an unrelenting storm of rage and power. Ragnor was moving faster than any dragon his size should have been able to, intermixing elemental attacks with physical blows as he tossed the young dragons around the room like they were little more than insects. And no matter how hard any of them fought, they couldn't regain their rhythm against him. They were all helpless.

Spyro managed to stagger to his feet, but as soon as he had accomplished this he was blown back through the air once again as an earth missile crashed into him, bruising his chest severely and feeling like it might have cracked a number of bones in his ribcage, though none of them fully broke as far as he could tell. Still, the pain left him immobilized for several moments, even as he saw Flash get struck in the centre of his flank by a blast of electricity, Faren take an earth missile to the right foreleg, dropping her instantly to the ground with a sharp cry, and Cynder shout in pain as an ice shard opened a gash low on her body, just to the left of her stomach.

Then, suddenly, Nexus was standing over him, crouching low and keeping a wary eye on his surroundings as Spyro's friends fought desperately to keep from being overpowered completely.

"We can't win like this," Spyro gasped hopelessly, wincing as Cynder took another blow not far away. "He's way too strong!"

"Yeah, I kinda got that!" Nexus snapped irritably in reply. "Listen, we need a new strategy. See that passage over there?"

He jerked his head to the left, and Spyro looked to see a dark, narrow stone corridor leading away from the chamber at a steep upward angle.

"That'll lead out to the surface. When I say, hammer Ragnor with everything you've got, and then run for that tunnel! You got it?"

Spyro nodded his head quickly.

"Alright, good," Nexus grunted, at the same time ducking as a stray fireball whizzed past his head. "Because this is going to get tight! Get ready!"

Before Spyro could answer he was gone, charging deeper into the chamber and weaving to avoid the chaotic storm of elemental attacks that were still crisscrossing in every direction through the air. Spyro gritted his fangs and forced himself back to his feet, ignoring the burning pain in his chest, and began drawing on all of the power he could muster, preparing to give everything he had in him to help Nexus in whatever plan he had. At this point, it was their only hope.

Only a couple of seconds later Nexus had edged into the very centre of the chamber, and with a grim snarl of defiance on his features he turned so that he was facing squarely at Ragnor.

"Now!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Not even a second after the cry had left Nexus's lips, Spyro unlashed all of his gathered energy in a massive surge of power. He poured all of his elemental power into the attack, consuming almost all of his strength and elemental magic in an instant. The attack didn't take on the form of any of the four elements, containing energy from all of them such as it did. Instead it manifested as a twisting, warming beam of pure energy that lanced through the air and struck Ragnor squarely on his flank with tremendous force.

Ragnor roared in agony as the massive surge of power tore into his ghostly form, burning through him with the intensity of a sun. At the same time Spyro was suddenly aware of the entire chamber beginning to rock and shake violently, and he wearily turned his head to see that Nexus was performing an earth fury in the centre of the chamber. The earth rippled and warped around him, and the stone chamber—already unsteady as it was, and weakened even further by the chaotic fighting that had just taken place within it—began to buckle. Huge cracks spread out across the floor, up the walls and all over the ceiling, and an instant later dust choked the air as chunks and slabs of debris began breaking free from the ceiling and crashing to the floor below, much of it slamming down on top of Ragnor and splitting his spectral body apart, even if it didn't actually hurt him.

"Guys, this way!" Spyro shouted as loud as he possibly could to be heard over the chaos. "Sparx! Flash, Faren, Cynder, come on! Follow me!"

For a second he was afraid they hadn't heard him, but a moment later his three dragon companions and his dragonfly brother appeared through the screen of dust, charging straight for him as fast as their legs and tiny wings would carry him. Without wasting a second he spun around and dashed for the tunnel Nexus had indicated, dodging falling debris as he ran and coming dangerously close to being crushed on a couple of occasions.

After using so much of his energy in his last attack it felt like his limbs were made of lead, and it was an unbelievable struggle just to keep putting one paw in front of the other, but nonetheless he pushed his pace as fast as he possibly could. He only stopped when Cynder gave a startled cry as she stumbled on a piece of debris and fell, the gash in her underbelly apparently causing her difficulty. With near-panicked urgency he dashed over to her side and helped pull her up to her feet and toward the tunnel just as a massive block of stone crashed into the ground where she had just been lying.

"Come on!" Faren cried frantically from the mouth of the tunnel, where she, Flash, and Sparx were waiting and watching their approach anxiously. "You're almost there!"

With a final, adrenaline-fuelled push, Spyro lunged for the passage just as a tremor larger than any of the ones before it shook the room, breaking loose a hail of pieces of stone of all sizes. With a desperate roar he leapt forward, Cynder right beside him, and mere instants before they were crushed they careened into the tunnel, crashing headlong into Faren and Flash and bowling the two dragons over.

"Alright, let's go!" Sparx exclaimed in a panicky voice, pointing furiously up the tunnel. "Before we're all buried in here!"

"Wait!" Spyro protested, to the surprise of his companions and also himself. After he managed to scramble to his feet he spun around and faced back into the chamber, straining to pierce the heavy dust with his gaze even as debris continued to fall and the mountain continued to shake.

"What are you waiting for?" Sparx demanded insistently. "Spyro, let's go!"

Spyro didn't hear him, for just at that moment he caught sight of what he had been searching for. There, weaving through the rubble and debris that choked the chamber, was Nexus, staggering slightly as the room continued to pitch and heave, bleeding scrapes covering his scales from the battle and the falling shards of stone. He was about halfway to them when suddenly a mound of stone rubble just to his left exploded, and Spyro recoiled in horror when Ragnor ploughed through the debris, roaring furiously. He slid to a stop directly in Nexus's path, causing the smaller purple dragon to skid to a panicked halt.

"You aren't going anywhere," Ragnor snarled furiously. "You are going to pay dearly for what you have done here today!"

At first Nexus's features were overcome by a look of horror when he realized his escape was cut off, but almost immediately a blazing snarl of hatred and defiance swept over his expression, and he glared daggers up at the apparition of his master.

"So be it," he spat. "I would rather die free than be your slave for even a day longer!"

Ragnor gave a low, menacing rumble deep in his throat, but Nexus appeared unfazed. Instead he closed his eyes, reared up on his hind legs, and began gathering together whatever power he had left. The air around him began swirling violently with the ominous purple energy of convexity, even as Ragnor cracked his jaws open and began charging up a beam of the same destructive power between them. Both dragons continued funneling power into their attacks for a moment, Ragnor's jaws crackling violently with bolts of deadly purple power, while Nexus was lifted up into the air by the growing power he was struggling to contain. Then, with a pair of thundering roars, both dragons unleashed their built-up energy at the same time.

The explosion of convexity tore through the chamber with ferocious intensity, splitting stone and shattering whatever structural integrity the crumbling room had remaining to it. Spyro and his friends tried to brace themselves from the incoming shockwave, but even so they were shunted roughly backward along the tunnel, stone debris tearing into them as it was accelerated to nearly lethal speeds by the blast. Spyro groaned through gritted fangs as stinging cuts were opened up all over his chest and shoulders, but all thought of the pain in his body was promptly erased when the tunnel lurched and shuddered more intensely than ever before.

"The whole place is coming down!" Cynder shouted over the growing rumble. "We have to get out of here!"

"Go!" Spyro exclaimed, pointing with a wing up the tunnel. "Hurry!"

His friends didn't hesitate to obey, and as fast as they could manage they fled up the tunnel, even as dust and chips of debris began raining down around them. It felt like the entire mountain was collapsing around them, and in the growing darkness of the caving tunnel the young dragons and dragonfly began to fear that they wouldn't be able to make it out in time.

Finally, to Spyro's huge relief, light came into sight ahead. However his hope wavered when he realized that it was only a slit of light in an otherwise solid wall of stone, blocking their path. The exit Nexus had mentioned was sealed.

"There's no way out!" Faren exclaimed despairingly. "What do we do?"

"Make one!" Cynder snapped immediately, and before anyone could wonder what she meant she jumped ahead of the rest of the group and unleashed a blazing beam of convexity from her jaws. The beam struck the stone wall with terrible force and splintered the stone as though it were barely stronger than paper. Rubble fell away from the new opening, leaving their way to the outside world clear.

"Go!" Spyro shouted insistently as the walls of the tunnel gave way around them. "Move faster! Go!"

But despite his shouting, they were already at their limits. The light from the tunnel's end was drawing steadily nearer, but the cave in was overtaking them too quickly. They had only a few metres left to go, then a few feet...

Then the tunnel gave way completely.

With a strained cry of desperation, Spyro took hold of what tiny shreds of strength he had remaining to him and brought the world around them to a standstill, gasping raggedly from the tremendous strain of maintaining his hold on time around not only himself but his four companions as well. His vision began to blur, his limbs growing wobbly and unsteady, even as the darkness around him fell away and they emerged in sunlight.

He couldn't hold it any longer; he allowed time to resume its course, and with a final, bone-shaking rumble the summit of the mountain behind them gave way. The ground beneath his paws buckled and lurched, but Spyro hadn't even the strength to consider walking. He was slipping, falling into oblivion, and there was no way on earth that he could catch himself.

A foreleg wrapped around him, and dimly he was aware of being dragged forward even as the stone beneath him gave way. Somehow whoever was pulling him managed to reach solid ground, and once there they released their hold and he collapsed limply to the earth, utterly spent.

His friends were saying something to him, but he couldn't make it out. Everything was slipping slowly away. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. Within his mind, only one faded thought echoed.

_It's over_.

They had escaped. The apparition of Ragnor had to have been extinguished in that cave-in. Nexus was gone. Finally the struggle was at an end, and though he should have felt relieved Spyro felt nothing but numbness, his world fading around him as exhaustion claimed him. He was only barely aware of the sound of heavy wing beats approaching before the world faded to black, and the welcome peace of unconsciousness washed over him, carrying his pain away...

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><p><strong>THE END!<strong>

**X) Just kidding. I have one more chapter to go to wrap up things up, and then my FanFiction debut story will be FINISHED! *Cheers***

**So, I'll see you next time for the conclusion. It probably won't take too long, so stay tuned.**

**Until next time...**


	35. Chapter 34

**Short chapter, so another quick update. So here it is; the conclusion of book 1.**

**Enjoy.**

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><p><em><span>Chapter 34:<span>_

"Spyro?" Cynder said anxiously, edging worriedly closer to the purple dragon that had just fallen limp upon the rough stone plateau high on the mountain.

"Looks like he's out of it," Flash commented, also sounding concerned as he gazed down at his friend.

Cynder nodded her head numbly in agreement, a moment passing in silence as she watched the slow, shallow rise and fall of Spyro's flank as he breathed, looking severely battered but peaceful in his unconsciousness. Sparx was hovering close to him, nervously checking his brother over as though afraid of finding some hidden but critical injury that might be the end of him.

The sound of flapping wings washed loudly over them suddenly, along with a large rush of air, and Cynder looked over to see that Terrador had just come in for a hasty landing at the edge of the small rock shelf. Volteer and Cyril were with him, and on their faces were looks of deep concern but also relief to see the four young dragons and Sparx there. Just at that moment there was a flash of red scales as Sirius appeared from behind the guardians, and as soon as he touched down on the mountain he dashed forward with fearful energy filling his bearing.

"Faren!" he exclaimed, rushing up to his sister. "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay," Faren replied with a small, slightly shaky nod. "Shaken, but I'll be okay."

Sirius's eyes quickly took in the bruises and scrapes that Faren had all across her body, pausing especially on the hole in her wing membrane that was slowly leaking droplets of blood down onto the stone, but Faren was firm in her assertion that she was alright, and eventually Sirius accepted her assurances.

"And the rest of you?" Terrador asked, not missing the heavily battered appearance of Cynder and Flash, and the unconscious Spyro lying in the centre of their small group. "I take it the battle didn't go as smoothly as we might have hoped?"

Cynder gave a bitter snort of grim amusement, but it lacked feeling because of her exhaustion after the battle. This seemed to be enough of a confirmation for the guardians, though.

"And Nexus?" Cyril inquired after a brief, tense pause.

None of the younger dragons answered for a moment, caught off guard by the mention of the other purple dragon's name and still feeling a bit confused about what had transpired within the mountain concerning their enemy-turned-unlikely-temporary-ally. Eventually, Cynder shifted her gaze to look back up toward what was left of the summit of the Well of Souls. The entrance to the tunnel through which they had escaped was gone, as was most everything else recognizable about the mountain's peak.

"Buried under a few hundred tons of rock, I guess," Cynder replied finally with a sigh, her words coming out somewhat hollow-sounding from weariness.

A low, tense grunt came from Terrador in understanding. "Well, at least we know that this matter is finally over then."

But he faltered in confusion when he noticed the anxious looks that Cynder and her other young companions exchanged upon those words.

"Cynder?" he said slowly, concern and wariness tingeing his tone. "Is there something that we don't know?"

"Some sort of development while you were inside that accursed mountain?" Cyril added.

Cynder didn't answer for a long moment, glancing between Faren and Flash again before her gaze settled on Spyro's limp form. A deep, troubling feeling of confusion seeped through her as her mind wandered back to the things she had witnessed within that chamber. The battle with that insubstantial monstrosity frightened her to the core of her being, and deep inside she knew that it would probably take her a long time to understand some of the things she had seen and heard.

_They were talking like Spyro was one of them_, she thought with a feeling of apprehension. _And more than just being a purple dragon_...

She shook her head roughly when Terrador said her name again, and she glanced up at the guardian's worried expression before letting out another long, tired sigh.

"Later," she said finally. "First, let's just get off this mountain. Then we'll tell you everything we know. But privately."

Those words didn't seem to sit well with the guardian, and he exchanged troubled looks with his comrades before at last nodding his head resignedly, his mouth drawn into a thin, tense line. He fixed his gaze on Cynder again, a look of mild suspicion within their depths.

"This isn't over, is it?" he asked, almost as if afraid of the answer.

Cynder sighed again, her head drooping.

"No. Actually, I'm worried that Nexus might have just been the beginning."

Terrador gave a low, tense rumble at the back of his throat.

"Then it seems that we have much to discuss," he sighed. "But later, as you said. What grublins are left alive are fleeing to the west, the battle is won for now, and it looks as though you could all use a good rest. Come, let's return to the others, and then we can go home."

Cynder found this idea all too appealing, and she nodded her head quickly. Satisfied, Terrador stepped forward and gently scooped Spyro up with a large forepaw before spreading his wings and taking to the air.

Ignoring the burning weariness in her body, Cynder spread her wings out and followed after him, gliding slowly down the slope of the mountain toward the foothills below, where their companions and their kind were waiting for them, celebrating their victory against the grublins.

Despite the knowledge that clung to the back of her mind that their troubles were most likely not over, Cynder allowed herself to feel heartened in the knowledge that, for now at least, they had emerged victorious, and hopefully they could look forward to at least a short moment of peace before their world erupted into chaos once more...

***.*.***

Unseen amongst the rubble and broken stone of the mountain's ruined peak, a lone figure watched as the guardians, Cynder, and their companions glided down from the plateau, heading back to their army. This figure, lurking within the shadows of a crumbled slab of stone jutting out into the sky, was battered and bloodied, but very much alive.

Nexus watched the other dragons depart without uttering a sound, watching the earth guardian carrying his brother away and to safety—if anywhere could be considered safe for either of them now.

The blast of convexity should have killed him, he knew, and yet somehow instead it had been what had saved him. The explosion had propelled him out of the crumbling chamber and into a relatively solid passage that, after a great deal of twisting and turning, had led him to another abandoned exit out of the mountains. He hadn't escaped unscathed; his entire body ached tremendously from being hammered by the force of the blast, blood streamed from multiple gashes, and one of his forelegs had been badly sprained when a piece of stone debris had smashed into it.

But he was alive, and for the time being that was more than enough for him.

He didn't allow himself to feel relieved, though, for he knew that the danger wasn't anywhere close to being over. Ragnor's apparition had been destroyed in the convexity explosion—he was sure of it—but that didn't mean a thing. The real Ragnor, sealed in the Dark Realms and watching from a distance, would have suffered no lasting effects, except that now he was probably very, _very_ unhappy.

He needed to leave that place. He needed to find somewhere that he could be safe while he recovered. His fight for survival wasn't over, but now he would have to carry out that fight on his own. As he realized this, he felt a strange, almost lost feeling within him. Where could he go, now that he was an enemy of everyone?

He wasn't going to figure it out just sitting there, he realized. Setting his jaw determinedly, he rose unsteadily to his feet and limped over to the western slope of the mountain before spreading his wings and pushing off from the stone, gliding sharply down into the thinly-forested valley below where he could hopefully escape the notice of any prying eyes. He landed heavily once he reached the cover of the dead trees, staggering slightly as his sprained foreleg sent up a jolt of pain. He forced the feeling aside and straightened, looking about and suddenly feeling at a loss for what to do.

Where could he go? All of dragon kind viewed him as a threat, and most likely hated him for the things he had done. He couldn't blame them; he _had_ done some pretty nasty things to them, in some cases for seemingly no reason at all, and while he didn't feel guilty per say, he still didn't hold their anger against them.

Still, that left him with frustratingly few options. Anywhere that was inhabited by dragons was somewhere that he couldn't go.

_Might as well go north-west_, he thought with a sigh. _Into the mountains, maybe to the coast. It's mostly uninhabited there._

He wasn't naive enough to think that running away meant he could escape Ragnor, but anything was better than staying in one place just waiting to be found. He couldn't feel Ragnor's presence watching him now, which gave him a critical window. Resigning himself to his decision, he struggled to gather up his energy before opening a portal of convexity in front of him. Then, with a sigh, he jumped through it.

Something didn't feel right. The journey should have been next to instantaneous, but for some reason it felt like it was taking longer. Then, suddenly, he felt an unexpected jerk, as though something had just yanked him to the side while flying, knocking him off course. He felt a brief, sickening moment of disorientation before a crash and lurch informed him that he had just reached the end of his portal.

Clumsily he stretched out his paws and managed to land on his feet, but the awkward impact staggered him and caused another jolt of pain within his leg. Gritting his teeth against the sharp discomfort, he glanced around at his surroundings.

He realized quickly that this was _not_ the mountains by the coast, and all at once he became highly on alert, his muscles bunching as he settled into a more battle-ready stance, wary of something jumping out at him at any moment. Looking around, he realized that he was in some sort of dark, large stone chamber, with shelves lining the cold rock walls, crammed with books of all sizes, colours, and ages. The only light within the space came from a massively oversized hourglass in the room's centre, glowing sand slowly slipping from the top half to the bottom, and yet never seeming to fill it up no matter how much fell.

He faltered, realizing that this place was one he knew. He had seen Spyro come here once. But why was he here now, when he hadn't meant to come?

Suddenly a voice, old but gentle enough, shattered the eerie silence within the chamber, and Nexus jolted before spinning around to face the source, baring his fangs and spreading his wings wide challengingly.

"There's no need to be alarmed, young dragon."

An aged dragon emerge from the shadows behind the hourglass, carrying a couple of heavy books somewhat clumsily in one forepaw while another couple rested in a satchel hanging off his back. His scales were a very pale bluish, almost grey colour, but on them Nexus could see faint, fire-shaped markings that denoted the element he had once controlled. His voice sounded almost weary, as though this dragon had seen a great many things over a great many years, but it was kind also.

The elder dragon glanced up when Nexus continued to stare suspiciously at him, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"You know who I am," he said, not as a question but as a statement, while he deposited the books he had been carrying and lay down on his stomach on the floor, pulling the top book closer to him—which was purple, Nexus realized, and emblazoned with decorative gold designs across its covers and spine. The dragon flipped it open casually, and with a wave of a paw he caused the pages to flutter past, stopping after a moment.

Nexus wasn't sure if he should answer or not, still feeling on-edge and wary, but the dragon's calm, gentle voice was beginning to brush away the tension he felt.

"I do," he replied finally, slowly folding his wings back against his sides. Then he frowned and cocked a brow inquisitively. "But aren't you supposed to be dead?"

Ignitus gave a short, soft chuckle, glancing up at Nexus again, and again Nexus felt a small bit of his uncertainty melting away under the larger dragon's warm gaze.

"Not all that unlike yourself," the Chronicler said. "You can relax, young dragon. You're safe here."

The words sounded genuine, but Nexus snorted sharply regardless.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew who was after me."

"Ah, but I do," Ignitus replied evenly, catching Nexus slightly by surprise—though he realized after that it probably shouldn't have. "Ragnor seems to be quite powerful."

Nexus blinked a couple of times in surprise, his defence falling when he heard the completely casual air in which the former guardian had said those words. Noting the purple dragon's confusion, Ignitus smiled before tapping a talon against the book he was looking at, and Nexus suddenly understood. That was Spyro's book. Ignitus must have been reviewing the battle that had just occurred.

"Why am I here?" he asked after a brief, uncertain pause.

"For two reasons," Ignitus replied, not shifting his gaze from the book before him. "The first of which is that I knew you needed somewhere safe where you could recover your strength. The ancient powers that dwell within this island will shield you from any unfriendly gaze. So long as you remain here, Ragnor will be unable to find you."

Nexus blinked again, staring at Ignitus in confusion, caught off guard by those words.

"You brought me here to help me?" he asked in disbelief. "Why? Why would you care what happens to me, after all the things that I've done to Spyro? He's your friend, isn't he?"

"Indeed he is," Ignitus nodded with a smile. "A very good friend, despite the fact that we had only known each other for a few short months before my...passing."

"Then...I don't understand."

"It is simple, Nexus," Ignitus told him patiently. "I have seen that there is more than just darkness in your heart. There is loyalty there too, as you demonstrated when you refused Ragnor's orders to kill Spyro. For that, you deserve a chance."

Nexus frowned, his eyes narrowing into a scrutinizing, defensive stare.

"That was one time," he said gruffly. "You sure you aren't reading into it a bit too much?"

"Yes."

Nexus snorted, a sharp, low huff, and turned his gaze away, plopping down onto his haunches on the cold stone floor of the dark library and falling into brooding silence. Though he didn't really know why, Ignitus's assertion that he wasn't just a creature of darkness and destruction made him feel strangely uncomfortable. He had never cared what others thought about him before—partly because he had spent his whole life in the Dark Realms, where the only other being he had ever had contact with was his master, and partly because he was fully comfortable with who he was. Having someone believe differently unsettled him.

"The second reason I brought you here is because, just like you, I am well aware that this struggle isn't anywhere near over yet."

His voice had taken on a more sullen tone at those words, and despite himself Nexus glanced back toward the Chronicler, curiosity getting the better of him. The large pale dragon was gazing down grimly at the page before him, clear worry pinching his features.

"Your survival is on the line, young dragon," he said ominously. "You are aware of this. Ragnor will not stop hunting you for turning against him, and neither will he stop hunting Spyro. Only once you are both dead will he rest."

_Tell me something I don't know_, Nexus thought bitterly.

"That is why you must be given the chance to recover your strength fully," Ignitus continued firmly. "Because I am afraid that danger is lurking for both of you on the horizon. Spyro will need your help again, Nexus. Of that I am certain."

Nexus scowled again, feeling troubled and more than slightly irritated by the Chronicler's prediction. Why did he have to help Spyro, when it was Spyro that had brought all this on both of them in the first place? He had already stuck his neck out once for his brother, and look where that had gotten him.

But the anger didn't last, and as it faded it left behind only a feeling of dull resignation. He couldn't fight Ragnor alone, and in that regard Spyro might be the only dragon that could help him now.

"But there is still time," Ignitus said suddenly, closing the purple book before him. "For now, do not worry yourself with what cannot be changed, and what still has yet to pass. Come with me; I'll show you where you can rest, and where you can find gems for your injuries."

Nexus sighed heavily, realizing that there was no point in arguing. He was hurt, he was bleeding, and above all else he was just too tired to care anymore. For now, what harm would it do to go along with the Chronicler's suggestions?

Resigning himself to wait for the time being, Nexus rose to his feet and followed as Ignitus padded away from the huge library, passing through a wooden doorway and into the dark, cold passages beyond.

***.*.***

The misty image within the stone ring flashed and faded, and Ragnor jerked back as he was thrown roughly back into his own physical body. For a brief second he was confused, unsure of what had just happened, but when realization dawned on him a boiling swell of depthless rage exploded through him. Surging to his feet, he tilted his head back, cracked his fearsome jaws as wide as they would go and unleashed an ear-splitting roar of unimaginable fury that echoed painfully within the oppressive darkness of his cavern and out into the desolate world beyond, his rage threatening to shatter the air and stone around him.

Snapping his jaws shut and silencing his roar, Ragnor began pacing furiously back and forth within the stone chamber, fuming that Nexus had foiled him in a final act of defiance. He didn't believe that the young purple dragon was dead—he was much too cunning for that, and too desperate to survive. No, he was out there somewhere, probably fleeing for his life.

He vowed in that moment that he would exact his vengeance upon the two members of his kind that should have been his faithful servants, but instead had chosen death. If they wished to fight, he would oblige them, and he would make them suffer beyond their most horrible nightmares for this.

But he couldn't do it alone, he realized after several long minutes of hate-filled brooding. Projecting his power into the Dragon Realms through the vision pool had drained more energy from him than he would ever dare to admit, and doing it again would only tire him further, making it all the easier for those hated traitors to defeat him again. No, he needed someone else who he could count on to carry out his instructions in that world and who _wouldn't_ fail him this time. Unfortunately, he was woefully short on options in that regard.

_Unless..._

He paused almost hesitantly, wondering if he should go that route. In reality it was the only choice he had available to him, but still he was reluctant. For one thing he hated the air of desperation that such an action reeked of, resorting to such a thing, and on top of that the past track record wasn't exactly faith-inspiring.

He sighed heavily, realizing that he had no other choice.

He rose to his feet and turned toward the exit of the underground cavern, following the twisting tunnel that would have been just the right size for any other adult dragon, but was on the cramped side for him. Only a few seconds later he emerged out in the open air, however, and once there he turned to his left and began padding heavily along the stone ridgeline that overlooked the plain below.

The surroundings there were barren and desolate, covered with dust and dirt that was constantly whipped up by the howling winds. On the horizon the ominous orange glow of volcanoes and fire could be seen, the sky heavily choked with ash and smoke that cast the land into a permanent darkness. Static from the sheer number of particles in the air caused forks of lightning to flash high overhead, adding to the harsh, imposing atmosphere of the place. Not a living thing was within sight. The only other creatures that inhabited that wasteland were hardened, twisted, nameless monstrosities that made hunting for enough food to survive quite difficult indeed.

_For far, far too long I have been sealed away here_, Ragnor thought furiously. _No matter what the cost, I _will_ break free, somehow..._

A minute later he reached his destination, and once there he stopped and turned to his left where another cave entrance opened up to the surface. With little pause Ragnor stepped through it, descending through another, shorter tunnel until he reached a small, plain subterranean chamber, lit only by the faint light of a large crystal formation in its centre. But not just any crystal; a time crystal.

Within the amber facets of the huge crystalline structure, a single figure could be seen, frozen there for countless years. Though the sharp edges and facets of the crystal's surface distorted Ragnor's view of the dragon inside, the figure was still easily identifiable as that of an adult female in her prime, her deep indigo-purple scales cast in a strange orangeish tinge because of the colour of the crystal. Her dark red eyes were wide open, staring desperately out at the world that she was sealed away from—such as it was.

One important fact of note, however, was that this time crystal was different than the one Spyro and Cynder had spent three years inside. When creating this crystal, Ragnor had purposely fashioned it so that instead of freezing time inside of it, he merely slowed its passing while still preserving its prisoner indefinitely. That way, though the passing of time felt to the dragoness within as just a fraction of what it truly was, she was completely aware of just how trapped she was, helpless to free herself and able to do nothing more than stare out at the same cold stone walls for years and years.

A fitting punishment, he thought, for the act of faithlessness and cowardice that had brought her here.

Still, though he would have liked nothing more than to draw out her suffering indefinitely, current circumstances forced Ragnor's paw. With a resigned sigh, he reached up with one massive forepaw and rested it against the surface of the crystal. A moment later the crystal began to tremble faintly, the shaking growing more and more intense until thin cracks began to form in its surface. Bright amber light burst out from these cracks, and as they grew a faint sound soon accompanied it, growing louder and stronger with each second that passed; a keening roar of desperation emanating from the frozen dragoness's gaping jaws, sounding just as he remembered it when he had sealed her within the crystal in the first place.

Then, with a tremendous _crash_, the crystal shattered into thousands of glittering fragments, crumbling into dust on the ground. Now freed, the purple dragoness collapsed limply to the ground with a strangled gasp without any semblance of strength to catch herself. For over a full minute she lay there, gasping feverishly as her body gradually remembered how to breathe. Then, once her breathing finally settled somewhat and the weak tremors running through her body had subsided, she slowly forced her eyes to open once again and blinked blearily a few times before anxiously turning her gaze upward.

"M...master," she gasped hoarsely, clear confusion and an evident hint of fear in her expression. "What...what is it you...wish of me? Please, I'll do anything. Just...please, don't kill me, and don't put me back in that crystal. I'll do whatever you ask..."

Ragnor grunted in contempt at the dragoness's feeble begging. The mere sight of her was enough to fill him with anger and disdain, but still, so long as her spirit wasn't _entirely_ broken yet, he hoped she would prove useful again as she once had.

"How would you like a chance to redeem yourself?" he asked, his voice rumbling like thunder within those tight confines.

Surprise flashed across the dragoness's face for a brief instant, but barely a second later the look was slowly replaced by a wicked grin of dark eagerness and anticipation.

***.*.***

The light of the twin moons high overhead bathed the Valley of Avalar in a soft, peaceful glow that matched perfectly with the absolute stillness of the night. The returning army of dragons, moles and cheetahs had stopped within the valley for the night, and all around were the sleeping forms of exhausted warriors, the three species intermixed with each other with seeming randomness.

One dragon couldn't sleep, however, the peaceful surroundings doing nothing to quell the disquiet within him. Alone atop a small hill by the softly-flowing river, Spyro stared up at the moons and the stars, lost in his uneasy thoughts.

The sound of the grass rustling behind him caught his attention, and he quickly turned his head to see a dark figure, practically invisible in the night because of her jet black scales, padding toward him. Her emerald eyes gleamed brilliantly in the moonlight, keen and striking in the darkness, and they seemed to cut right through Spyro as they gazed at him.

"What are you doing up?" Cynder asked as she came up by his right side and slowly sat down, a questioning look on her expression. "Aren't you tired?"

Spyro sighed and didn't answer for a long moment, turning his gaze to the sky again.

"I just can't shake this feeling," he told her finally. "I feel like something else is coming."

Cynder was silent for a span of several seconds, studying the purple dragon beside her with concerned eyes, but slowly those eyes were drawn up to the sky like his, and she let out a long, measured breath.

"I feel the same," she admitted. "This whole situation is so unlike anything I've ever faced before, and I just know that we haven't seen the last of it."

Spyro nodded grimly.

Another silence passed, lasting several minutes, and in the absolute stillness Spyro felt Cynder slowly edging closer to him, as though seeking some small comfort against her own troubled thoughts. He welcomed the contact, but it still didn't drive away the disquiet within him.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" Cynder asked quietly a minute later, looking up at him again. "Nexus."

Spyro sighed and nodded.

"He saved my life," he muttered distantly. "I don't even know why he did it. And I couldn't help him in return when he needed it."

"You would have if there was a way," Cynder told him immediately, a note of gentle surety in her voice. "It's not your fault, you know."

"I know," Spyro nodded. "I just wish that I could understand why he did it. Why he did any of the things he did. I used to be so sure that he was just evil, but now everything seems so...contradictory."

This time it was Cynder's turn to nod. "I understand, but there are just some things we can't know." She rose slowly to her feet and brushed his shoulder with a folded wing. "Come on. It's cold out here alone, and you look exhausted. Come rest, and then tomorrow we can go home."

Spyro glanced toward her briefly before a small smile began tugging at the corner of his mouth, feeling comforted at the prospect of soon being safely back in the dragon city once again. Perhaps their struggle wasn't over, but for just a short while maybe he could allow himself to feel peace. How welcome that would be...

As Cynder began descending the gentle slope of the hill, Spyro rose and followed her, his weariness making his movements sluggish and heavy. He wanted nothing more in that moment to curl up in the soft grass with the black dragoness beside him and just give in to his exhaustion.

But as he descended the hill, for just a fleeting second Spyro felt a strange yet familiar tug inside of him.

For only a brief instant, his gaze was drawn over to the horizon on the west...

**~ *.*.* ~**

_**To be continued in Part Two of**_

_**The Broken Line Trilogy:**_

_**The Snare of Darkness**_

* * *

><p><em><strong><strong>_**And that's it! My debut story on FanFiction is now officially COMPLETE! Woohoo!**

**I just want to say how much fun I've had writing and posting this story, and I have absolutely no regrets about deciding to push my comfort envelope by posting my work for everyone to see for the first time ever. To all you readers and reviewers, thank you a thousand times for your wonderful support and encouragement. Whether you've reviewed once or for every chapter, signed or anonymous, I MASSIVELY appreciate it! I NEVER would have imagined getting so much feedback for my first story, and don't think that I undervalue it for a second. :D**

**One thing though. To all you anonymous reviewers-GET AN ACCOUNT SO I CAN REPLY TO YOUR REVIEWS!**

**XD Just kidding. If you prefer to remain as anonymous that's fine. Just know that I enjoy being able to tell reviewers personally how grateful I am. And that way, if you happen to ask a question (I won't mention any names) then I can actually answer! Shocking concept, I know. X)**

**Blah, this author's note has gotten way too long. The story's done, thanks for reading, and I'll see you all in the sequel!**

**Until next time...  
><strong>


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